---

On the dolorous hill where the wraith

of the dead kings gather

their freezing breath and their mournfulness

that were buried by time and dust

embrace my flesh and blood.

Under the sinister clouds of starless night

mysterious winds from the beyond heal

my flesh and blood.

Their void prayers of feeble voices

from wandering souls of fleshlessness

are the omen of shadowy goat-horned storms

that reap my flesh and blood.

Blazing choir under the secrets of hell.

Lunatic lights of the funereal moon

dimly light up the wraith of the dead kings.

Their void prayers of feeble voices

from wandering souls of fleshlessness

are the omen of shadowy goat-horned storms

that reap my flesh and blood.

Blazing choir under the secrets of hell.

Satan!

Let me join the blaze of hell

where eternal rottenness growls.