Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Hymn To The Witching Nightsky, artist - Grabak. Album song Der Prophet Des Chaos, in the genre
Date of issue: 03.09.2007
Record label: CCP
Song language: English
Hymn To The Witching Nightsky |
Like a cloak of black velvet the night covers the land |
Protecting the black welcomes the creatures banished by men |
Deathlike silence crawls through the veins of the dark forest |
Through the boughs of the trees the blackened nightsky gleems |
The knowledge of existance of black magic |
Let’s them groan expectant |
Only some animals are feeling |
The omens of the coming witching hour |
Floating clouds in the sky give the fullmoonlight a mystic look |
After a while two dragonwings are building |
The cupola of this magic place |
His breath hides the arrival like an opaque fog |
Spellfilled the sulphuric air vibrates |
A second later witches and warlocks |
Are dancing in a circle of burning thoughts |
Ancient trees are bordering the mephisto waltz |
The devil’s eye beyond the forbidden scenery |
Is watching over the children of the night |
Ecstatic twitched bodies |
Are wriggling under stars burning up |
Again and again |
The horns of propagation are fusing |
With the witches wombs |
Tonguelike flames are lickering |
The hidden points of lust |
Breathfountains of the exhausted |
Are condensing in the icecold air |
Of the witching nightsky |
Without any notion |
The mankind oversleeps this orgiastic |
Celebration |
The 12th hour is the term of the demonic procreation |
By an eruption of sperm and blood |
The eye is shut satisfied |
In the 13th hour the new procreated are leaving the protecting shells |
All stillborn find their way back into the diabolical throat |
Being the essence of the master’s existance |
By a sign of the sixfingered claw |
The witchcraft has been stopped the air is mixed with the smell |
Of sexual intercourse and silence |
Unable to move |
The crowd is waiting |
Because a shadow |
Is wandering through the rows |
Lying on the face of a young witch |
The shadow’s fingers caress her body |
She feels them like a breeze |
Between her virgin thighs |
Her mouth starts moaning |
Until she screams because of her lust |
But she still doesn’t know |
She is screaming her sentence of death |
Her body is burning |
Until a statue of ash |
Is the last evidence of her former existance |
By satan’s breath the icon breaks up |
And a million pieces spread over the ground |
Not before this the night discharges |
Their children from the devil’s service |
Until he calls to worship again |