| Song | Hertogenwald |
| Artist | Enthroned |
| Album | Black Goat Ritual - Live in Thy Flesh |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Enthroned, Nornagest | |
| Across many miles to German's land, frison's born and | |
| Belgian frontiers, snow storms are raging... | |
| Tryggvasons battles are near, the white fields separate us. | |
| Christian! You're gonna die by our frost! | |
| At middle age time, Limburg create lots of myths, | |
| ancient pagan cult, wrap of mysteries. | |
| invaded by the filthy Christian tribe. | |
| we drive them back to the fields of impurity. | |
| let them die in their rotteness! | |
| [Cronos:] | |
| "Midnight paths are now engaged to our lust. | |
| Sons of SATHANAS, we are gathered for the one. | |
| Frosted snow falls on cadaveric faces, | |
| colder than the cross of ice. | |
| The unholy benediction of the silver moon. | |
| spiked crown shinning on these marble steps!" | |
| Limburg, across the Vesder to the black forest, | |
| there stand the crypt where were invoked | |
| demonic souls they came from the Gehenna to us. | |
| to bless their legions in which they trust, | |
| praying for us warriors of the dark Pentagram. | |
| Christianity is just a matter oftime. | |
| We'll drive them back to their Nazareth hills, | |
| with the solicitude of SATAN! | |
| Burning their churches, jagged their whores. | |
| Ashes to ashes, dust to dust... | |
| As they please us to rip them off like porks! | |
| Tryggvasons battles, the ancient Belgian war. | |
| The war without sanity... Without mercy... | |
| A war for an era without Christian lies... | |
| Oooohh! Lord of lust and fear of impiety... | |
| It's time for us to drift in the dark tranquility. | |
| Limburg, town of my ancestors!!! | |
| In the eternity of times I'll worship you forever... |
| zuo ci : Enthroned, Nornagest | |
| Across many miles to German' s land, frison' s born and | |
| Belgian frontiers, snow storms are raging... | |
| Tryggvasons battles are near, the white fields separate us. | |
| Christian! You' re gonna die by our frost! | |
| At middle age time, Limburg create lots of myths, | |
| ancient pagan cult, wrap of mysteries. | |
| invaded by the filthy Christian tribe. | |
| we drive them back to the fields of impurity. | |
| let them die in their rotteness! | |
| Cronos: | |
| " Midnight paths are now engaged to our lust. | |
| Sons of SATHANAS, we are gathered for the one. | |
| Frosted snow falls on cadaveric faces, | |
| colder than the cross of ice. | |
| The unholy benediction of the silver moon. | |
| spiked crown shinning on these marble steps!" | |
| Limburg, across the Vesder to the black forest, | |
| there stand the crypt where were invoked | |
| demonic souls they came from the Gehenna to us. | |
| to bless their legions in which they trust, | |
| praying for us warriors of the dark Pentagram. | |
| Christianity is just a matter oftime. | |
| We' ll drive them back to their Nazareth hills, | |
| with the solicitude of SATAN! | |
| Burning their churches, jagged their whores. | |
| Ashes to ashes, dust to dust... | |
| As they please us to rip them off like porks! | |
| Tryggvasons battles, the ancient Belgian war. | |
| The war without sanity... Without mercy... | |
| A war for an era without Christian lies... | |
| Oooohh! Lord of lust and fear of impiety... | |
| It' s time for us to drift in the dark tranquility. | |
| Limburg, town of my ancestors!!! | |
| In the eternity of times I' ll worship you forever... |
| zuò cí : Enthroned, Nornagest | |
| Across many miles to German' s land, frison' s born and | |
| Belgian frontiers, snow storms are raging... | |
| Tryggvasons battles are near, the white fields separate us. | |
| Christian! You' re gonna die by our frost! | |
| At middle age time, Limburg create lots of myths, | |
| ancient pagan cult, wrap of mysteries. | |
| invaded by the filthy Christian tribe. | |
| we drive them back to the fields of impurity. | |
| let them die in their rotteness! | |
| Cronos: | |
| " Midnight paths are now engaged to our lust. | |
| Sons of SATHANAS, we are gathered for the one. | |
| Frosted snow falls on cadaveric faces, | |
| colder than the cross of ice. | |
| The unholy benediction of the silver moon. | |
| spiked crown shinning on these marble steps!" | |
| Limburg, across the Vesder to the black forest, | |
| there stand the crypt where were invoked | |
| demonic souls they came from the Gehenna to us. | |
| to bless their legions in which they trust, | |
| praying for us warriors of the dark Pentagram. | |
| Christianity is just a matter oftime. | |
| We' ll drive them back to their Nazareth hills, | |
| with the solicitude of SATAN! | |
| Burning their churches, jagged their whores. | |
| Ashes to ashes, dust to dust... | |
| As they please us to rip them off like porks! | |
| Tryggvasons battles, the ancient Belgian war. | |
| The war without sanity... Without mercy... | |
| A war for an era without Christian lies... | |
| Oooohh! Lord of lust and fear of impiety... | |
| It' s time for us to drift in the dark tranquility. | |
| Limburg, town of my ancestors!!! | |
| In the eternity of times I' ll worship you forever... |