Harvest Rain - Most Northerly Midnight | Текст песни

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• Harvest Rain
• Most Northerly Midnight

Our most northerly midnight
Arctic throne of ice
A Black Sun is screaming
Turning our breath to ice
To be wrapped in its glory
In the memory of this blood
To come alive in castles of ice
And glisten all about the Northern sky
So look behind the Golden Sun
Face to face with the Black sun
Yule comes quickly
As Wotan rides through Mother-Night
Ancestral omens in the darkest hour
Where her eyes turn blue as the flames devour
All the tins and binds
A Helm of Awe for you
Gentle breeze freezes my blood
Blot, Sumbel, Disappear.

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