Willed by winters so called frost Fix the in anxieties from grip The frost that burned the honorees Underneath the heavy clouds The lifted sword, the broken shield The end that drew the final word From the frozen mouth of Arkhangelsk
Let them go, let them burnt the world to cinders Let the rats run down Falling through the tungsten skies The burning clouds of Arkhangelsk
To the eye of judgement now What will stand when time of the end, (time of the end)
Center stone, into fire On to nothing and nothing to lose They gather, groaning to the souls Of the grinding winds of Arkhangelsk
In the world what movement in The fabric, everything dies The storm that sweeps the world away From the frozen plains of Arkhangelsk
You hear it from the morning star, What others brought And the land, forgot
Soring through the Nether mills Through blazing stars, the time suns The grinder now that carries us Through the bloody end of Arkhangelsk