On moonless nights we rise  From tombs of ancient death  Old souls of magic  Spirits of forgotten knowledge  Warlords of the old world (and)  The abyssic beasts of hell    On starless nights we gather  In mystical crypts and secret shelter  Sometimes in the open  Or in endless woods of might  Mostly untrodden by mortal man  (Certainly) never in their presence    In the absence of the plague called humanity  The warlords raise their swords  And the beasts of hell raise their claws  Towards the deep dark sky    Waiting for the infernal master to come  Waiting for the unholy blessing to receive  Waiting for the harvest to come    On moonless nights we raise our swords  Hungering for the blood to come  On starless nights we raise our claws  Grasping for the flesh to rip and tear  Under the deep dark sky  We praise the lord of darkness  And prepare ourselves...  For the harvest of human souls