Тексты песен Stormwarrior

Borne and rais'd in the realme of the hammer Pagan heartes, poundinge harder than e'er before Flee from the treacherous signe of the crosse To fynde the pathe of glory Where the elders have walk'd upo

Heede the chante of the foreste, I feele his breathe in the wistful wynde "Threefolde-three nights on the tree...", I seek his gaze in the well of Wyrd Don't query the signes, don't question

Twelven are the nights atween the years and tymes When memories awake and the wyndes blowe oh so highe The Wilde Hunte, a giante horde, prowlinge throughe the darke The Wilde Hunte, a raginge storme,