The air was so cold and pure
I could almost touch the heart of it's sin
I turned my face against the sky
Nocturnal gales ruled this blackest night
I held my sword high...
And drank the blood on it's cold blade
In a cyclone of infernal desire
The ancient northern warriors rose again

The pagan wind blows
Through the mists of eternal hate

Black ravens fly
Riding the winds of forgotten pride

So this night had come at last...
Raped is the grace of the queen of love
I laugh as the whore cries
Her tears of blood drown the frozen ground
A northern kingdom rised
At the artic waste of eternal night
This new Aeon was... for the ones of this
Northern throne