The Sons of Northen Darkness.


The mighty sound of damnation calls
As the holocaustsky draw near
Above the storms over Baeskades
Rule the power of the vrilla

It has come to ride the seven winters
With winds of war and winds of cold
Lightning strikes the northland
Leading us into seasons of frost

Stand in the fog with so cold a heart
Watching the death of the sun
Valleys above a thousand of coffins
The holocaust has just begun
It's the march of the blasphemous masses
Into damnation all will fall
Chapels of black unholy demons
Chanting the words of the funeral rites

Pure holocaust

Chanting the words of the funeral rites
Chapels of black unholy demons
Into damnation all will fall
It's the march of the blasphemous masses
The holocaust has just begun
Valleys abound a thousand of coffins
Watching the death of the sun
Stand in the fog with so cold a heart

Leading us into seasons of frost
Lightning strikes the northland
With winds of war and winds of cold
It has come to ride the seven winters
Rule the power of the vrilla
Above the storms over Baeskades
As the holocaustsky draw near
The mighty sound of damnation calls
Pure Holocaust


//pencil on paper.