Nature had taken the face of fear Terror is painted around Whispers and screams of pain Are hovering in the night. The high priests are prepearing This surifice must be done Full-moon is approaching Red virgin-blood will be spiled. Tou are prepearing for the great moment The unborn child is coming With the hordes of evil With absolute hate and obscure eyes. You're faithful servant He's the chosen one The silence cry drives you mad The whispers are drilling your mind. The mystic gathering from the faithful Priest Waiting for the secret day It ain't going to be late Ruins and destruction turn around Your tears are rolling the black cloak The great celebration is beginning (The unborn child is coming) Look the sights of time...