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