| Black Metal my folk.
|
| Defend the name of rock'n'roll.
|
| Black Metal my folk.
|
| Black Metal my folk.
|
| Black Metal my folk.
|
| Fight in the name of rock'n'roll.
|
| Black Metal my folk.
|
| Black Metal my folk.
|
| Those were simple good times
|
| and you called them gloomy and catastrophic
|
| only if less sure,
|
| but sure he was already dead
|
| for a while;
|
| claim heaven
|
| and you always get hell.
|
| Spoiled lineage
|
| from a joke of chance,
|
| you held seventy years
|
| this distant specter
|
| but even chance has its irony
|
| and a grim catastrophe
|
| now you know what it is.
|
| Now you have hell on your face,
|
| no longer distant and foreign,
|
| now you have the apocalypse in the square,
|
| you had your real war.
|
| Now it's your land
|
| the one that tears itself apart,
|
| now it's your home
|
| the one that ravages,
|
| now it's your people who are mowing themselves,
|
| now it's your head that gets cut.
|
| The beginning of the end is a real scenario,
|
| house by house in all the streets,
|
| how brutal it falls
|
| the lord's cleaver
|
| it does not matter which.
|
| Black Metal my folk.
|
| Defend the name of rock'n'roll.
|
| Black Metal my folk.
|
| Black Metal my folk.
|
| Black Metal my folk.
|
| Fight in the name of rock'n'roll.
|
| Black Metal my folk.
|
| Black Metal my folk.
|
| Seventy years of peace seemed like shit to us
|
| without mercy here
|
| the god of war,
|
| it is our barbarism
|
| to dig the grave
|
| common for the slaughter is ready.
|
| They never like us then
|
| we like them,
|
| a leviathan our soil god asks
|
| hecatombs why
|
| he is just and good,
|
| he asks merciful hecatombs.
|
| Western values you spat on it,
|
| back medieval
|
| on the first turn of the wheel,
|
| human rights as pagan myths
|
| now you have sacred absolutisms
|
| and sacred massacres.
|
| Now it's your land
|
| the one that tears itself apart,
|
| now it's your home
|
| the one that ravages,
|
| now it's your people who are mowing themselves,
|
| now it's your head that gets cut.
|
| Black Metal my folk.
|
| Defend the name of rock'n'roll.
|
| Black Metal my folk.
|
| Black Metal my folk.
|
| Black Metal my folk.
|
| Fight in the name of rock'n'roll.
|
| Black Metal my folk.
|
| Keep on rocking in a free world.
|
| Every tribe shouts Gott mit Uns,
|
| Gott mit Uns, such as Gott mit Uns,
|
| some Gott mit Uns ...
|
| and if life is worth less than dust
|
| from gunshot we slaughter by hand,
|
| African style. |
| We hit and run,
|
| we talk and fuck, we all smarter,
|
| we are all stronger, in the storm we are
|
| we the yokels, not the head:
|
| we were lice.
|
| Total war in the belly of Europe,
|
| sicut erat in the beginning
|
| and you wanted more.
|
| Brutality, aberration and death:
|
| every micro nation
|
| a macro massacre.
|
| Black Metal my folk.
|
| Defend in the name of rock'n'roll.
|
| Black Metal my folk.
|
| Lay down your soul
|
| to the god rock and roll. |