Cry voices
Death's mask
Something is to happen
A small moment
Leaning to be wandering
To a great cliff
Morbid angels
Singing the future
Something is to happen
I feel my blood
My skin to flow
To vanish to the ground
Dress your armors
Swords, shields in fist
Morbid soldiers
That is the sound of the deads
Death's Mask
Born of the hell
They are to say
Troops of the Judgement
Morbid angels
Screaming to the War
To struggle with the Life
Just the beggining of the end