Nature had taken the face of fear  Terror is painted around  Whispers and screams of pain  Are hovering in the night.    The high priests are prepearing  This surifice must be done  Full-moon is approaching  Red virgin-blood will be spiled.    Tou are prepearing for the great moment  The unborn child is coming  With the hordes of evil  With absolute hate and obscure eyes.    You're faithful servant  He's the chosen one  The silence cry drives you mad  The whispers are drilling your mind.    The mystic gathering from the faithful  priest  Waiting for the secret day  It ain't going to be late  Ruins and destruction turn around    Your tears are rolling the black cloak  The great celebration is beginning  (The unborn child is coming)  Look the sights of time...