From [bad word] the storms 
Landscapes turn to ash before my pressured eyes 
Nothingness turns to nothingness 
And my imagination fades like dustclouds over 
This deserted land feel to now satyricon 
Wonder how stormclouds rage 
And all you can feel is the cold winds of 
Funeral times, timeless they are 

He saw lived and died 
In these dreams of demons 
Wondering how he could open the gate to 
Dark medieval times and bring forth to the domains 
of satyricon, two great spears and a flag of dominion 
And hate 

Above it all creations fall 
Living for the quest and the search 
Dying for the key, living for the domains 
Arise northern spirit [bad word] forth under 
The might of the castle satyricon