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Artist: SatyriconBlack WindsSummon thy hidden wisdom, gather the unholy hate Winter is at hand, frozen my tears will be Created by blasphemy The edge of my sword, the powers of my mind Winter is at hand, as two torches blaze in the dark A warrior dressed in black, granted eternal life Black winds blow my hair, as the voice of the night Whispers my name Blackened ground, mistly sound Hear the call for war, the master calling his Warriors to explore by the sign of the horns As the dawn arisses the souls of a thousand Young men shall go wild As the fire sounds into the night the're sitting by The campires awaiting the dawn |
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