Where Cold Winds Blow I (was) laid to Rest I Can not reach my Rusty Weapons The Blood and Sword that Guided my Path For they Drowned in the Sands of Wisdom
I was, indeed, a King of the Flesh My Blackened Edges; still they were Sharp Honoured by the Carnal Herds But asketh thou: Closed are the Gates?
My Mind cut my Winged Weapons And Teeth that was my Pride And from the Forest all would hear: "Wisdom Opens the Gate for the King"
My Weapons Sighted - My Tears they Tasted Summon my Warriors - To the Land of Desire To the Domain of Hate - Where Cold Winds Blew For Lust for Hell - We Rode with the North Wind
Only I could accomplish a fucken Self-deceit There are only Two Paths - the Mind or the Sword And the Mind was Open like the Sights in a Dream But the Sword was like a Stone around my neck
I Entered the Soul of the Snake And Slept with the Armageddish Whore (but) without my Throne and my Weapons; Where Cold Winds Blow became my Grave