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Transilvanian Hunger
Darkthrone
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Transylvanian hunger, cold soul
Your hands are cruel, to haunt, to haunt
The mountains are cold soul, soul
Careful, pale, forever at night
ย
Take me, can't you feel the call?
Embrace me eternally in your daylight slumber
To be draped by the shadow of your morbid palace
Oh, I hate living, the only heat is warm blood
So pure, so cold
Transylvanian hunger
ย
Hail to the true intense vampires
A story made for divine fulfillment
To be the ones breathing in a wind of sorrow
Sorrow and fright the dearest catharsis
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Beautiful evil self to be the morbid count
A part of a pact that is delightfully immortal
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Feel the call freeze you with the uppermost desire
Transylvanian hunger, my mountain is cold
ย
Ah
So pure, evil, cold
Transylvanian hunger
ย