Heathen Rise - Wolfchant

In the misty darkness of my dreams*

I wander through the fields

The fields of blood and agony

Where so many had to yield

Through all the ages

Through all the struggle for life

Against bondage, oppression

For freedom and hope

With the hopeless ideal to survive

This is a tribute

To all the heathens who died

Tortured, enslaves and burnt

To death by the servants of religious lies

Religious lies

I hear their mouning in my head

The pain and misery

Betrayed and slaughtered

They were damned

To this place without relief

And all the slain theu took at me

Eith widley opened eyes

Their faces are distorted masks

Congealed in silent cries

Do not believe

Do not obey to their priests

Who want to control you

And spit on your roots

To justify their bloody deeds

This is a tribute

To all the heathens who died

Tortured, enslaves and burnt

To death

By the servants of religious lies

May their spirit rise again

To enlighten me

And to bring back the lores

Got lost in dark centuries

May their ghosts rise again

Just to frighten those

Who dare to convert innocence

By force

And their spirit

Spirit shall rise again

Haunt them — to take revenge

Cleanse the world

And then rebuilt

The mighty heathen throne

Cleanse the world

And then rebuilt

May their spirit rise again

To enlighten me

And to bring back the lores

Got lost in dark centuries

May their ghosts rise again

Just to frighten those

Who dare to convert innocence

By force

Do not believe

Do not obey to their priests

Who want to control you

And spit on your roots

To justify their bloody deeds

This is a tribute

To all the heathens who died

Tortured, enslaves and burnt

To death

By the servants of religious lies

May their spirit rise again

And to bring back the lores