from woods of nights nocturn prepare the land to burn carried on winds of war uprising hordes pilgrimage force praise the unlord until the dawn decapitate their god summon their wives to rot children are slaves of hell uprising hordes rising for war pilgrimage force until the dawn as we arrive, we leave no stone unturned and the smoke reaches high king ilves, countless heads roll theyre destined to die from our hair dris the blood carve our swords in bones sitting proud and rest and take only the best
pilgrimage, uprising, dris, ilves, horde