Satyricon The Forest Is My Throne
Through years of knowledge, man rode the wings of evil Through the enormous winter, three years without summer Prepared for the battles of the north I sat on my throne and watched between The skies of a cold northern light, Knowing this was my ground, but those who turned their backs Against my throne, only got my sword in their back! I rose from my throne and walked away with the wind Through centuries of weakness Only the strong follow me, on my crusade of darkness In this land where the forest is my throne I have come to re-hunt