Lyrics
A dozen slaughters, mord i minnet, hatets ande i honom stigit fram
with them hangs them up
En hetaste grav, filled with massacre
Their flesh for the glory of the dark, d r han pl gas underjord
Thisrty to hurt, dour and alone with murder in his heart
lynnet m rk som fj drar av korp
Thisrty to hurt, fylld av slakten, hatets ande i honom stigit fram
Med dessa han sticker ihj l, his leg shortly burns in the sea of flames
he spies on his lambs
The spirit of hatred grows in him, han kan sin konst
He cleaned his tools well, d r han pl gas underjord, on the sides of roads
Han nj t av minnet, deras k tt till den m rkes ra, sina verktyg han putsat v l
Murder in mind, m rdaren han bodde i ett torp
he lived in a croft
d f ngar han m ngens n ra och k ra
f r minnen av mord
Their flesh for the glory of the dark, with them hangs them up
He cleaned his tools well, vid stigars f ra
f r minnen av mord
A dozen slaughters, thisrty to hurt
F r minnen av mord, d r han pl gas underjord