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