my spirit wonders places, where (your) god never goes weth no shape I fly, when the prophets just crawl and pray these empty words of their lord

so many brothers passed away from this world to the land of sorrow, away from this vicious land

arising of the northern gods hearing the sound of the night below this winding sky watching this meaningless fight

opus funerale.. take me back to the black dephts of earth to the land of sorrow, away from this vicious land

in death I´ve lost all, in life I had nothing from the earth I came, as earth I´ll become remember me and embrace my gone spirit below this freezing nightsky...let me go...