Paroles de Ultima Thule

The vast plains of ice Faraway from route of nomads Against the lacerating wind Alone pilgrim presses through the snow Beneath the wendigo's howls And luring voice of naked nymphs Await him to falter on this path A warlock and mortal From pulpits of madness Send to forge towards his fate Eyes blinded And skin shred by thorns of cold But somewhere inside burns the image That rises past the horizon The circle, the black stones Monument of heavens below At dawn of time consecrated With blood of lesser races Ceremonial knife Aligns the stones By light pouring from the stars By blood of one who became void