Paroles de Cruel Black Dead

Plague-sided sword Deforms dance of the dead All living things waste away Under this ruthless hand Whirling in dance, In ragged and grubby gowns, Cruel Mor, black death/black and lifeless Reaps all life Through sounds of the night, Chant of prayer gets louder, Amid stone ruins, Each time colder,blacker. A black sacrificial stone, Covered with bloody saga, Remembers weeping and groans, Each time colder,stronger. In layers of the Polar night, In viscid ethers of anger. In the middle of the centre of shining, Of it's black guillet Blood as a herald of death Blood raises the dead