Wind Like Stroke (Attila) (исполнитель: Dark Moor)
Fort terrois imparata Terra mortes est sembrata [bad word] generatjo [bad word] contestatio From east came storms leading fire and iron By grim demons gathered all as worms Track the trails and find the place to environ Breaking through winds on their way to Rome To the city, source of evil vices Everybody calling it their home In the time when it grows and rises [bad word] [bad word] provoking its fall In the air Everywhere In despair Gust that blows out In the breeze The disease Breaking out Flying about Riding horses They have blood thirst Firing grasses On their way Blaming crosses They slay, they burst In black masses They are the god's enemies They are the god's enemies They are satan's breed While their [bad word] They dash over frays and nuns Attila the Hun Barbarian trail of blazes following the sun Attila the Hun Is bad seed, and devil [bad word] son The bad deed is done For all people is fleeing and can hold on no one Rome is just over Ave Rex! It's [bad word] Honores! The dust just covers Mortis vox! It's face white neat Mal atrox! They're near the city Ave Rex! To make [bad word] Honores! Sorrow and pity Malis res! Victory's full [bad word] imperator Fillium noctis Malus et hostis Dei