Из альбома: Through Thick Fog Till Death
In the years of grace
Under the gods feeble command
A holy crusade chased the soil
For salvation and incarnation
The poor man who didn't believe
The poor words of resurrection
He who felt the justice of gods hand
The same man were killed upon the cross
In the course of the years they haunted the shores
To convince others doubt
But far and away in the shadows
Were the creatures
No single man had ever seen, but feared: lurking
It turned out to be their last steps on mother earth
As the woods turned dark
They gathered for the night
A bleak fog glides (so silent) through
It was like the whole world just opened up beneath them
Every man and woman, children, priests and nuns
Were slain by a vehement force
It was something so dark you couldn't imagine
So dark that you would die just to know it
It damned them all forever
It was the swing of Satan's sword
Who devoured their waspish wail
Into the rotting forest of Urgehal
Through thick fog till: death