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 Graveland GravelandПольская группа, играющая в стиле блэк

Blood Of Christians On My Sword

The frost tries to reach us

With it's cruel, cold hands

The cold witheness hurts our eyes

And we still march with wind in the face

We follow the trace of blood in the snow

Yesterday we burnt two villages

We killed women and children

Heads out of the bodies of priests

We impaled on our wooden socle...

The blood of hideous monk

Is still getting blacker on my axe

Their temple burnt

And we fed a fire with their corpses

My brothers are marching silently

The great frost turns the hearts into ice

The warm blood will bring the life back

To their bodies...

Another christian village is near...

Those who escaped, showed us the way...

On the blood from their wounds...

We must deal them a deathblow

Before wolves get them...

On the horizon behind us

The black smoke appears on the sky

On the hills full of trees

Wolves observe us

They'll leave the hills and follow us

As soon as the day in over...


Blood Of Christians On My Sword / Graveland

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