Nocturnal Worshipper
The Return Of The Southern Tyrants (2001)
1. Intro (Ave Satani)
2. Cold Mist Of Funeral Empire
I hear the first tolls of the Bell
Far away striking lenghty and grave
It's the omen of the blackness that is coming
The gloomy strokes of the sentence
Freeze the heart of the enemies
That ever feared the prelude's Night
The reopening of the Black Age
When happened the devastation
Brought by us, sons of the Throne of Ice
Winter Bestial Horde swarms into rows
Arms raised in a diabolic act of war
Sweeping over this Land
The Cold Mist of Funeral Empire
And the Lord of the Ages called us to War
Brothers, creeping and carrying all to Death
Following the Leader, the Master of no Light
And the Hammer, the lawful weapon
Of the legitimate sons!
Cold steel forged in fire, blades sharpened by slaves
The blood of the enemies will sprinkle on this Land...
Warriors of the last Millennium
Revival from old ruined crypts
Black marks of eternal memory
Bringing forth from ancient times:
Hate and weapons of Battle
Fortify us in our will to conquer
Eternally eclipsed by the Dark clouds of Disgrace
Opening the Twilight that faints the sun in Hate
Intense evil turns into gray the South Hemisphere
And the top of the Conquest of the Obscure can see
Sweeping over this Land
The Cold Mist of Funeral Empire
3. Prince Of Death
This burn under the sign of pointed view so far
Massacred evil alive in themselves
On subdivided forces of this incarnation
All Satanic wimple kingdom
Rejoiced with the arrival of the envoy
Forth fight coming to the Earth
Through the yowl timeless of the North
In through this shadowy night
Was warmed a diabolical potential
That would become a funeral reality
Because the sleep would await soon
By the age and the sorcery of the ancient ones
His deep eyes turn into Black
The Heel kneeled, the time has come
For the chosen one arise
Like a thick pace his music sweeps
from end to end, the other hand of the shot
Attracting the goddess to his side
Mortifying even more the dominion of dear smarts in fire
Now the fame of the prince of death sounding like
a blaming fierce aged on gray rotten sky
The bringer of severity marked
All the jokers, opportunist, and the false
just fell in the name of Satan
But in the fight a promise broken in a
Conspiracy - the lady a snare to shed his blood
The insane who raped his wife
Didn't think he was overthrowing
the pillar that supported himself
Now we see the morbid insane
Turned up and crashed to your bones
and to the blood of your veins
Hold on that to us and run,
your people, your sword, your circle
Your misguided horrend
I can feel your spirit
Your eyes in black
4. A Tomb In The Satanist Hill
Old scrawly gravestone never shivered with a storm
By the invoked force, ancient verses
The sepulchral dead silence darkens the mountain higher top
Ground burned by our pagan flames of redemption
Buried down witchcraft secrets, times and times Black Souls
Guardians of Sword and life lies on the Ice of the Fog
The twelfth Night comes we form the blasphemic ceremonial union
Awaiting the Signs of Death to open the Gates of our Lord
The icy winter Wind
On the top of the Mountain
Caresses my gravestone
Raised in Immortality
In my hindmost sacrfice hour
hear up the ghostly gallop
The weak light of the Moon reflects
On the sharp blade and dazzle
My eyes in black that see the
One with scythe in hands and hood
Its howls of wind freezing Heckti
Finally its defy! Says:
"And now we will die united
Do the Oath of the Ancestral Key
Come into the center of the pentagram burning
It's our code - And you are one !"
We read the Ancient Manuscripts, cursed words of Black Spell
And we see His kingdom by the opening of the Gates
Under His sceptre we are named as Glorious Black horsemen of Hell
This is the evil seed from a triumphant race
I enter into the endless forests alone glorified by the Key
An invisible power guides my eyes and sword
Roving through the Night by the shadow of the scrawly gravestone
Raised in my cold mountain in the head of my grave
The icy winter Wind
From the top of the Mountain
Caresses my gravestone
Raised in Immortality
5. Fury Of Demoniac Harvest
The mortal eyes of men will open with fright
The blindness of impunity turns the vision of the truth
The one that has horns on forehead
Command the devestation
The Master with your hosts
Only Evil can prevail
The glorious Black Horsemen ride fast over dark clouds
The infernal lightning strikes
The multitude that don't believe in their eyes
The one that has the horns on forehead
Command the devestation
The Master with your hosts
Only Evil can prevail
The hurricane of fire cross the holy lands
The false kings see their thrones burning
The millenarian hereditability is broken by a new law
Fidelity and mysticism is passed by father to son
Those who try flee, fools they should to join
Will be enclosed by final circle
Will be suffocated by their own precepts
Will suffer the inversion until happens
the union of the triangles
The swords cut off
The heads of mediocre
The sky is bloody
In earth: Death, Fire and Terror
Invincible in Battle
the Servants of the Horned Master
The world to be resigned
Before the Supreme Renovation
6. Ancient Flames Of Darkness
I see the blaze crossing the horizon
that inverts in fire burning
Remembering me the agony of the guilty
Slaves of desire and of the lie
When the ray pass the sky tears the eternal blackness
The thunder roar but their spirits are detained silent
Shine as much for bless as slander
The Ancient Flames of Darkness burn the heart of the spirits
In the eyes see their inner secrets
In this life wich days have no decay
Visions revealed in a secret place
And their faces recovered in intimate gloom
All the living must cross the triangle
To join their shadowy being disunited
The deep sleep from initial crown
Allows the cursed possibility
When the ray pass the sky tears the eternal blackness
The thunder roar but their spirits are detained silent
Shine as much for bless as slander
The ancient flames of darkness burn the heart of the spirits
Alone in the Dark the seek for the lost silent shadow
Feel the expulsion of the putrid recent inclination
Inverted by withdrawal of the walls of illusion
Without the veil, united upon the inner fountain of blood
A penetrate and corrosive cold follows it burial
Sounding the fatidic rumor of winds carressing the wood
The twilight dies and the sinister coffin goes on the march
That leads the centuries to the famishing grave that awaits ...
7. Outro (The Altar)
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