"A ROUT OF THE LIES"
A December nights carries winter thorns
Smell of the blood, destruction, pain from the frost
A Triumph Ice Throne
On the top of the madness among a mountains
Running faster than wind
A wolfs whimper wipe edge
A avalanche's dast is Mixed with Black smoke
From the dumps of the burnt carcasses
A wolfs whimper wake up a night
In my theatre of the dead bodies
They constantly play the role
Alive carcasses, slayers of themselves
Light a torches, in the cave of snakes
Tongue of fire burns the forest
The bone black from the lies
Coordinate grid
A cold smoke is dancing
The death sings again
Her sincere note is coling
To a limbs lifting a rope
"Pogrom KĊamstw"
Grudniowe noce winter bear thorns
smell of blood and destruction. from the cold sore
Triomphe
ice throne at the top among the mountains of madness
Running faster than the wind
Howling Wolf Ridge
wipes dust mixed with the avalanche of black smoke stacks
The roasted carcass
Howling wolves raises overnight
In my theater play dead bodies
continue this role
Live carcass, slayer themselves
Burning torches in the cave
vipers tongue of fire burns the forest
with bone black from the lies
arrange rack
cold smoke dancing
Death Again
sings her sincere note of calls to the branches
heaving rope
