Mistweaver Sons Of Darkness
In the deep of the blackest winter night,
When the wolves bark from the hills
Chilling winds shake the christian hearts
It s the time for the ones
For the ones awaiting in the dark
To appear deep into their dreams
Burning crosses enlighten now the
May the nightmare begin
Ancient rites have been said
And the sky turns into red
Forbidden aeon's return
Hear the cries from the dead
We're the sons of darkness
Bringing the dark
We re the sons of darkness
Join us
From the deep of the forest
In a hole of time
An idyllic place
Far beyond the sun
We praise a new deity
The horned one
Coming from the shadows
To the altar of the damned
Join us now
Cross the threshold of eternity
Become an entity of no end
And free forever
Forget all your past
Let the future flows
Living in no present
You are dead
