Interpret:

Nokturnal Mortum

Album:

Weltanschauung

A groan of dark wood throughout my daring soul 
Rides like a wild hunt and falls like mountain stream of thoughts 
A gloom that stole the soil emorisoned buried land inside itself 
Strangled in embrace of dusk without fresher gulp of life 
Its palms upon the tremor of the rind without a vile call of weakness and pain 
The better taste of blood and chill of death, the proud songs of wind 
Branches the lands of dead they seize its lead with fears 
Death is not dreadful while you are young 
Or when being old you want to pass away 
Still his lands reak out for the stars searching for the Thread of Skjuld 
Be you the winged one your fate is not to for rot in grave 
But he spits poison afraid of his own shadow 
Sign of Enuy is a true stigma of egoism 
Always drunk of false optimism 
Death and vice its lesson it missed 
A call of madness a heap of misunderstandings 
Its morals and principle are left to rot in dirt 
One gathers mud he's living fast 
Smashing hands to blood from the senceless spite 
One stakes himself and throws a coin 
While staring at the gun one looks into her eyes 
One finds defence beneath worm's ominous star 
He feeds its blood to parasite poisoned buried in the dust of time 
And wind still howls against this silence he steals the weerings from the ancient woods
When Lady Sorrow kiss the graveyards, she feeds the burial beast with the wine of blood 
And the devil still laughs and hisses greedy breaks his fangs in the malicious grins 
Replacing with daydreams the likeness of life for creature that feeds upon the lifes 
While someone is fighting the other is just spitting there are also the ones laughing at them both 
One losts himself in the search for passion another one shall bury his love in crypts of inmost fears 
Death with a Scythe would banish hope rip open a rotten soul with storms 
A desert demon shall die by drops of rain and feed the lost soul with its poisoned blood