Paroles:
Satyricon Ten Horns Ten Diadems

in these dreams of demons Wondering how he could open the gate to dark medieval times And bring forth to the domains of Satyricon Two great spears and

Forhekset av tidenes vind, Besatt av Nattens kalde gufs Under ravnsvart himmel de bedriver Blodskam og hor Med skingrende stemmer de pakaller Dypets makter

A rotating silvercolored plateau, drops that dance down the columns Blue, cold and the raging starwind glowing colors at fearful speed indistnct pictures