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Sarke - Vorunah cover art




TypeStudio Full-length
GenresBlack Metal, Thrash Metal
Album rating :  -
Votes :  0
Lyrics > S > Sarke Lyrics (8) >

Vorunah Lyrics

Submitted by level ― (2011-02-14)
1. Primitive Killing (4:21)
The moon is leading my path
In my hand a knife of bone
In the other a rope
For strangulation, to end it

Prey in sight
Blood will be shed this night

A moment unprepared
A spear through the neck
Falling to the freezing ground
Shivering, cold, dead

Instinct of the living
Primal hunting
Death is life
Primitive killing
2. Vorunah (4:02)
Ripping, dripping
Drooling on my boots
You're on me like a uniform
Like a snake entwines its prey

Even though I hate you
You're on me like an old man's dog

Unleash the anger in me
Then Vorunah will see
How cruel I can be

My skin is crawling in filth
I will never be clean
From your aching stench
Cause you are me

My life
Like a kiss
From Dracul
3. The Drunken Priest (3:24)
Laid out before him
A book of old psalms
His eyes are blinded
By the darkest shades

His mouth is dry like sand
The voice is rusty
Speaks about death and sorrow
And how to save your soul

The drunken priest
On his alter throne
Drowning in wine
And endless funerals

Aroma of wine and vomit
Infects the air
Wearing the hammerhead
Saved by the iron bell
4. Frost Junkie (6:24)
White fields
Mountain cold
The numbing fog

Arctic wind
Freezing dawn
A bitter gust

Frost junkie
Ground sleeper
The winter sovereign

Glacial sculptures
Nimbus form
Twelve in numbers

The north chronometer
Aberrant art
From the creator
5. Old (3:42)
The smell of museum
The rocking chair
Dead skin
The silver hair

I'm old
I'm dying
Hell can wait
I'm always late

Drenched in coffee
The tongue of sin
Yellow teeth
Hands shivering

Grey woollen cardigan
A black pipe
A crawling spider
It's night
6. Cult Ritual (6:33)
Old script
Gravestone oblique
Flowers withered
Irriguous soil

Beneath the ground
Carcass decayed
Incessant stench

Into the caves
Into the graves
Death crumbling
Cult ritual
7. 13 Candles (6:57)
In the corner
A brown Chesterfield
On the floor
A carpet of human hair

Four statues in bronze
Hand crafted
From ancient times
Holding a wooden table

Thirteen carved holes
In a wolf's spine
A candelabrum
To hold the candles

13 candles are burning
In the memory
Of the two souls
That was never there
8. Dead Universe (2:06)
Dead mountains
Dead lakes
Dead caves
Dead rivers

Dead lanscapes
Dead skies
Dead trees
Dead universe
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