1. |
Rural Insanity
06:08
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In these corners veiled by darkness
Where the earth shatters and meets its end,
Where the mountains sink in the maelstrom
And the trees whisper mournful songs…
In this church of desolation
And the most tormenting thoughts
I have fed the soil with my blood
And my mind with bitter poisons,
Foul has become my spirit
And rotten my most sacred devotion.
I have burnt my redemption
In the pyres of everlasting vice,
For this pestilent vomit of black bilis and despise
Has carried my most frenetic prayers.
Let the brews flow! Let the blade scar my flesh!
In the solitude of this landscape,
At the bottom of this bottle,
I have found God!
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2. |
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The winter ghosts haunt me again
With feverish nightmares and ill tempers
In the loneliness and filth of my lair
Where blood and bilis are sacred and holy.
Eucharist of madness, rites of damnation!
As the skies blacken in despair and sorrows
I fill this cup with disgusting brews,
Welcome be the demons of intoxication!
The snow and frost have covered my hopes
For any sort of salvation in the spring to come,
So, with this bottle I nail my soul to the Devil’s altar
Let’s drown ourselves in decadence,
SALUD!
The lifeless shadows
Feast with me in this lair
Faceless spirits
Have grown within these walls,
No redemption comes for us
I’ve embraced our agony
As the sacrament of this rite.
Let the wine of our disease flow!
Let the winter go on!
I vomit my despise upon this world.
Monsters, demons, horrible visions!
The winds bring old sad songs,
And the black clouds keep weeping,
As my blood feeds the most sickening faith
For the Dark Gods.
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3. |
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The Great Shadow
Reaches to me
Filling the chalice of my mind
With nightmares and illness.
For I’ve been abandoned,
Drifting in the ocean
Of a cursed rotting life,
Hopeless I’ve wandered the corners of time,
Poisoning my liver, contaminating my blood,
Twisting my sanity,
And for that demonic fate
I celebrate this mass
Of rotten rituals and blood curses.
My vomit bears witness to my despise for this creation,
Let its fermented stench rise up to the heavens and fill the lungs of the angels.
Let the foul vapours of my spew insult the holy name of the father.
I uncork this bottle with abhorrent malice,
I sharpen my blade with repulsion,
I throw up words of repugnant love
For all the wicked things in this world.
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Hæksenhamer
Filthy diabolic metal.
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