Crusade Of The Underworld Hordes کے بول

Gathered are they, the wolves From the north and the tribes of The underworld hordes Heathen them >From pagan wastelands Joined with them have they The stench of blood. Holy blood! Have penetrated their woods and Fields too long Ravens flew as messengers >From hill to hill They brought harsh Blasphemous chant As ancient as time itself Whispered by the wind which Cries for the waning moon The beholders of the cross, shall Be mesmerized by fear Their fate denies the fact of such Creations Man, beast - the hordes of the Underworld Bound by chains forged by Pagan blood Tonight they shall feast Tonight the ravens and wolves Shall feast Upon blood, of those of the Light who behold the cross Beneath the remains of a civilization. Centuries of sorrow!! Centuries of pain!!