Masters Of The Old War

Full of hate and carelessness

this will be the army to march

for the land of the noble warriors

in hymns of glories with axes and swords

watered in christians blood

See... they implore for death

but the sufferance

wants to possessed your bodies

your screams hopeless

fortify our spirit for the war

To defend our honour, our land

and to squash our enemies

to create the chaos

and reach the victory

this is the empire that will survive in flames

Listen the sing of the amazons,

in the sound of the trumpets

they call you for fight

with impiety dominate the cold blood

cover the eyes of hate

then is the art of the old war

that burn the soul

of the nocturnal guardians

The flesh contortion

to touch in the wire of the blode

and among the shadows the shoul

of the black crow

annunciate the arrival

of the hordes of the darkness

is the supremacy commins

the pure domination