How the moon leers at thy ignorance, Ye who laughest in the face of Death Know ye not its ever-gaping jaws? They always hunger. Oh they wake up from their slumber now Heeding the call of the wild From the shadows they come forth; Abominations of the north!
Murderers, spawn of might impregnated By many a blackened will, The stalking horror for long time gone, Hungry now for the kill. Holy guardians of the secrets nocturne For which many a man have burned And so the nightwinds cry out their dreaded warning wail; The wolves have returned!
Beware! The wolves’ curse. Beware! The dark.
Fear! The lupus lunae At night, Beware!
Dwellers of the threshold, Children of the night, Predators and punishers, Fearless yet feared. The stench of putrefaction And of long dead blood Follow their steps. Ever so near.
Beware! The wolves’ curse. Beware! The dark.
Fear! The lupus lunae. Fear! The return.
Approach them not with doubt in heart, Disturb them not in vain. Only the cursed ones, the wild at heart May enter their domain. A Lawless realm where Chaos breeds and Howls most foul asound. So stay away, ye who is of god! This is enemy ground.
Beware! The wolves’ curse. Beware! The dark.
Fear! The lupus luna. Beware! Watain.
Kerberos are We, The three-pronged spear, Shape-shifters, Always hungry. Far beyond the grace of god Lies the lair, Where shadows fall.