On moonless nights we rise

From tombs of ancient death

Old souls of magic

Spirits of forgotten knowledge

Warlords of the old world (and)

The abyssic beasts of hell



On starless nights we gather

In mystical crypts and secret shelter

Sometimes in the open

Or in endless woods of might

Mostly untrodden by mortal man

(Certainly) never in their presence



In the absence of the plague called humanity

The warlords raise their swords

And the beasts of hell raise their claws

Towards the deep dark sky



Waiting for the infernal master to come

Waiting for the unholy blessing to receive

Waiting for the harvest to come



On moonless nights we raise our swords

Hungering for the blood to come

On starless nights we raise our claws

Grasping for the flesh to rip and tear

Under the deep dark sky

We praise the lord of darkness

And prepare ourselves...

For the harvest of human souls