Transilvanian Hunger...cold..soul
Your hands are [bad word] ..to haunt..to haunt

the mountains are cold...soul...soul...
careful..pale...forever at Night

Take me...can't you feel the Call
Embrace Me Eternally in your daylight slumber

To be Draped by the Shadow of your Morbid Palace
oh, Hate Living...The only heat is warm blood

So Pure... So Cold
Transilvanian Hunger

Hail to the [bad word]  intense vampires
story made for Divine fulfillment

To be the ones breathing a Wind of Sorrow
Sorrow and fright the dearest catharsis

Beautiful Evil Self to be the Morbid Count
part of a Pact that is delightfully immortal

[scream]

Feel the call freeze you with the uppermost desire
Transilvanian Hunger...my mountain is cold

[scream]

So Pure... Evil, Cold
Transilvanian Hunger