Satyricon / Enslaved The Forest Is My Throne / Yggdrasill Black Winds Summon thy hidden wisdom, gather the unholy hate Winter is at hand, frozen my tears will be Created by blasphemy The edge of my sword, the powers of my mind Winter is at hand, as two torches blaze in the dark A warrior dressed in black, granted eternal life Black winds blow my hair, as the voice of the night Whispers my name Blackened ground, misty sound Hear the call for war, the master calling his Warriors to explore by the sign of the horns As the dawn arises the souls of a thousand Young men shall go wild As the fire shines into the night they're sitting by The campfires awaiting the dawn The Forest Is My Throne Through years of knowledge, man rode the wings of evil Through the enormous winter, three years without summer Prepared for the battles of the north I sat on my throne and watched between The skies of a cold northern light Knowing this was my ground, but those who turned their backs Against my throne, only got my sword on their back! I rose from my throne, and walked away with the wind Through centuries of weakness Only the strong follow me, on my crusade of darkness In this land where the forest is my throne I have come to re-hunt The Night Of The Triumphator Come come infernal war awake beasts of hell free yourself from the chains that have been holding you for 666 years We await sodomy and destruction It is the night of the triumphator (starts the burning of heaven) On this night in the pentagrams power we shoot the angels down from the sky (and we) sodomize the dirty whores of babylon... on christian ground On this night we torture the betrayers Night night holy night of the triumphator (rape the nuns, hang the priests, cut the throat of the crying christians)