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Faltered Funeral

"Faltered Funeral" (2003 Demo)

1. Transilvanian Hunger (Darkthrone cover)
2. War (Burzum cover)
3. We Are Uruk Hai
4. Faltered Funeral

1. Transilvanian Hunger (Darkthrone cover)

Transilvanian hunger the mountain so cold
Cold cold soul cold

Your hands are cruel careful ... pale ...
To haunt, to haunt forever at night

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
Ohh, hate living... The only heat is warm blood

So pure... So cold
Transilvanian hunger

Hail to the true, intense vampires
A story made for divine fulfillment

To be the one's breathing a wind of sorrow
Sorrow and fright the dearest katharsis

Beautiful evil self to be the morbid count
A part of a pact that is delightfully immortal

Feel the call freeze you with the uppermost desire
Transilvanian hunger, my mountain is cold

So pure... Evil, cold
Transilvanian hunger

2. War (Burzum cover)

This is War
I Lie Wounded on Wintery Ground
With Hundred of Corpses around
Many Wounded Crawl Helplessly around
On the Blood Red Snowy Ground
Cries of the (ha, ha) Suffering Sound
Cries for Help to All Their Dear Moms
Many Hours of Music
Many Drops of Blood
Many Shiverings and Now I Am Dead
And Still We Must Never Give up

3. We Are Uruk Hai

We are the Uruk Hai.
We come in our masses,
Unstopped by the dawn.
We are Uruk Hai.
We are the Uruk Hai.
We come to your doom,
Unstopped by our fall.
We are Uruk Hai.
We are the Uruk Hai,
Screaming High.
To your death, you must die.
We are fighting Uruk Hai.
We never stop fighting untill we die.
We are the fighting Uruk.
We come in our black masses,
Forming attacks against you.
We are the fighting Uruk Hai.

4. Faltered Funeral

Countess, of old,
beautifull, my beloved.
Sorcerer, of death,
my deliverer, my own.
Countess, my life,
is yours, to hold.
Sorrowfull bliss,
Countess, you are mine.
Lovely, bloody death,
You are but a trickle of fear.
Insane intelect coming
from your hot breath.
Seeping from my veins
forming into vails of death.
Entrails ripped from an
already bleeding witch.
I will bow down to your grace
and eternal lace.
I will scream with blood dripping
from my face.
At the ball, feast on sinners.
Watch their dead eyes as you eat.
Dancing moonlight fray,
Countess, queen of the damned.
Bestowed upon me,
lordship of northern land.
Pain, inflicted.
Upon, fellow man.
Crying, tears of blood, your faithfull servent,
becoming your serpant.
Eating away your flesh at an attempt to
become god.
Chasing, the unwanted,
out of our lands.
Countess, why have I
forsaken you?
I am no longer worthy
to live under your command.
With each thrust of this
dagger, fluid, is spent.
In my love for this dieing land.
Singing angels mean nothing to me
Eat, Drink, Be Merry,
For the blood of sinners is on your hands


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