Deep, deep shadows cast down on earth
|
by the cold moon's light.
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In the moorland the mists rise up,
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this is the Werewolf's night.
|
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Twelve o'clock - the churchbells strike,
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I hear the Wolfman's call.
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His eyes are burning deamon-like,
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this night he get's you all.
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Wolfmoon, Wolfmoon burning bright,
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through the forests of the night,
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Wolfmoon, Wolfmoon set him free,
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from thy gruesome tyranny!
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Oh, young fair maid, did you not see,
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the moon is full tonight?
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Run -don't walk- from the moorland, flee!
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Before he is in sight...
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To feast upon thy maiden flesh,
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to eat thy heart and soul.
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Wolfmoon, Wolfmoon burning bright,
|
through the forests of the night,
|
|
Wolfmoon, Wolfmoon set him free,
|
from thy gruesome tyranny!
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|
-----------------
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Wolfmoon
|
| The Vision Bleak |
