Idioma Origen:
In the cryptic shadows of the mystic full moon night,
echoes from the chanting hymns of darkness bray with might.
Here I stand in mountains where the pagan songs are sung,
only to invoke the mighty ancient king of hell.
Satan, in the night we summon thee, chanting magic words of blasphemy.
Black mass in a lonesome crytic land...
Worship of the black majestic throne!
Members of infernal worship gather in the night,
serving satan and his demons for the heathen rise.
Voices from a lonely forest honors natures ways,
in the form of ceremonies that invoke the king.
Satan, in the night we summon thee, chanting magic words of blasphemy.
Black mass in a lonesome crytic land...
Worship of the black majestic throne!
In these lonesome heathen lands torches summon demon winds,
fire now ignites the skies.
Rites of darkness shall begin as I raise my ritual sword
standing within a pentagram.
Thunder bolts in the skies of fire burning heaven's realm of gold,
angels fall with burning wings.
Wars in cosmic battlefields is the answer to my call, mighty is our victory.
Melancholic are the sounds coming from a distant land,
haunted are the holy ones.
Could it be the rays of moons shinning on the ancient throne
making saddened melodies?
Deep within the funeral night where my presence is not seen
I am a lord that reigns supreme.
I invoke majestic throne of lord satan and his horde.
Loyal forever I shall be...
Idioma Destino:
In the cryptic shadows of the mystic full moon night,
echoes from the chanting hymns of darkness bray with might.
Here I stand in mountains where the pagan songs are sung,
only to invoke the mighty ancient king of hell.
Satan, in the night we summon thee, chanting magic words of blasphemy.
Black mass in a lonesome crytic land...
Worship of the black majestic throne!
Members of infernal worship gather in the night,
serving satan and his demons for the heathen rise.
Voices from a lonely forest honors natures ways,
in the form of ceremonies that invoke the king.
Satan, in the night we summon thee, chanting magic words of blasphemy.
Black mass in a lonesome crytic land...
Worship of the black majestic throne!
In these lonesome heathen lands torches summon demon winds,
fire now ignites the skies.
Rites of darkness shall begin as I raise my ritual sword
standing within a pentagram.
Thunder bolts in the skies of fire burning heaven's realm of gold,
angels fall with burning wings.
Wars in cosmic battlefields is the answer to my call, mighty is our victory.
Melancholic are the sounds coming from a distant land,
haunted are the holy ones.
Could it be the rays of moons shinning on the ancient throne
making saddened melodies?
Deep within the funeral night where my presence is not seen
I am a lord that reigns supreme.
I invoke majestic throne of lord satan and his horde.
Loyal forever I shall be...