Transilvanian HungerYour hands are cruel...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
ohh, Hate Living...The only heat is warm blood
So Pure... So Cold
Transilvanian Hunger
Hail to the True, intense vampires
A 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
A part of a Pact that is delightfully immortal
Feel the call freeze you with the uppermost desire
Transilvanian Hunger...my mountain is cold
So Pure... Evil, Cold
Transilvanian Hunger
--
The Dark is generous, and it is patient, and it always wins.
It always wins because it is everywhere. Walk in the midday sun, and it is with you, attached to the soles of your feet.
The brightest light casts the darkest shadow.
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