Eerily howling winds, hear the wolves cry.    Cries of hunger, cries of hate. The ruler in    the forest, below the red moon, hiding in    shadows, under the golden forest crown.   Eerily, howling winds [4 times]. In the    deep dark woods of Norway, they were    nowhere to be found. The Ancient wolf    spirit gathered and howled. We are the    true pagans, we shall always be, from our   day forward, to eternity. Forward in    the forest, the old man laughed and    grinned, spitting forth agony.    The red full moon. This is my ode    to thee, Ancient ruler of my land.    Eerily howling winds, hear the wolves   cry. Cries of hunger, cries of hate.    In the old Norwegian moon, I will    see their red eyes, and I shall    greet them, listen to their beauty songs.    Eerily, howlings winds [4 times]