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SVARTLUND LYRICS
"God is a Coward! (Demo vol. 1)" (2005 Demo)
1. New Aeon
2. Werewolf
3. Graven Takeheimens Saler (Darkthrone cover)
4. Six Minutes of Depression
1. New Aeon
20 centuries have passed away since then
As the false religion has grasped the minds
Of defenceless and spineless sheeps
Obediently bleating in glory of the jew
They have spread their dirty hands
For conquest of other weaklings
By the promise of paradise, which
Will be last haven for their vile souls
But the brainless mass could not realize
That the church only uses them
It makes from them its helpless slaves
And enjoys the superiority
Christianity is a suicide of your mind,
It’s bringing on an altar your will
It’s restrictions and self-sacrifice
In the name of the son of the whore!
But the new aeon is inevitable
The Armageddon is not a doomsday
It is the end to religious obedience
Let the triumph of chaos take place
Let the divine monasteries burn
With a contemptible smile on my face
I shall observe the falling of gods...
2. Werewolf
When Night has embraced the land
When the cold Moon flickered
I became a hungry beast and I searched
Innocent victim to satisfy my Hunger
All My feelings have been aggravated
I heard as roots of trees make the way deep into the ground
I felt a smell of the Blood running through her veins
I heard palpation of her heart within My head
My canines tore soft flesh
I felt taste of Blood on My lips
The Moon became crimson
And only My eyes reflected its light
Having sated, I have disappeared in a Shadow
Drops of a rain will wash off traces of torture
I became thy death, covered by the darkness of Night
Wolf’s heart shows no mercy
Only twilight wood will be a silent witness
Of the severe slaughter
3. Graven Takeheimens Saler (Darkthrone cover)
Naberg reiste seg, n'r ved Mannahemens garden.
okstid, Sverdtid, ufred var der ikke - dog var er byllepestens plager.
Ingen gjestet frender, ingen gjestet prest,
ingen drog til byen, uten lanse og til hest.
I Opphavs tider sang de sanger, for seg selv og sine fedre.
I dag synges kun de sanger, som skal gjore morgendagen bedre.
Sanger for den neste, ingen sanger for den Beste.
Svik og logn har fatt sin plass, i midgard jotneses palass.
En mann vandret rolig, sikker, stolt der mellom hus.
Han ferdedes blant folk, han trakket tyredd der blant mus.
Flere hundre menn, han gjestet hver kald natt.
Han var enoyd, hoy og tynn, og pa sitt hode bar han hatt
Ensom mann han vandret, over bivsrot en kald morgen.
Han ristet pa sitt hode, over menneskenes tap.
For de sikret seg en plass, i en ufodt tragisk himmel,
for de vandret nor og ned, for de ratnet i Hels fred
4. Six Minutes of Depression
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