A night cold wind washes my eyes,
wandering in a deserted place
i feel the horror take possession of my mind
burning fire dimmly iluminates the ceremonies,
ancient pagan rite of the night,
witches and demons come with their infernal hails
pagan unholy folk gathered in the circle,
on the wings of pentagram, I see the fleeting shadows
with their raised, blood-stained hands
in the glimmering dark light you will come,
to the bloody creator of passion
save yourself from the cold virtue,
at midnight come to your lord Lucifer
blowing winds of diabolic storm, blasphemy is born
nocturnal ancient rites,
nocturnal ceremony of the blasphemous Mass