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Black Angel
Mörk gryning
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🇬🇧 English · Original
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There's a cry on the wind
A voice so old that whispers of death
A cold stare that cripples your soul
The old lair the angel has left
And now he flies again
The chilling night's filled with terror
Now he rises again
Against the black sky on wings of fire
Woe unto you men
He's coming
Brace yourselves for
Dies Irae
And the stars in the sky fell to earth
The kings hid in caves and among rocks
This is the great day of wrath
And who can withstand it?
Falling fire, falling death
The fallen angel's claws at your chest
Woe unto you men
He's coming
Brace yourselves for
Dies Irae
Pour the seven bowls upon the earth
Let the world of man burn
No more sound shall be heard
No more jester will speak a word
No piper shall play his tune
The darkness has fallen
The angel is calling
Woe unto you men
He's coming
Brace yourselves for
Dies Irae