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Deep, deep shadows cast down on earth by the cold moon's light. |
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In the moorland the mists rise up, this is the |
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Werewolf's night. |
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Twelve o'clock - the churchbells strike, |
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I hear the |
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Wolfman's call. |
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His eyes are burning deamon-like, this night he get's you all. |
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Wolfmoon, |
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Wolfmoon burning bright, through the forests of the night, |
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Wolfmoon, |
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Wolfmoon set him free, from thy gruesome tyranny! |
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Oh, young fair maid, did you not see, the moon is full tonight? |
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Run -don't walk- from the moorland, flee! |
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Before he is in sight... |
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To feast upon thy maiden flesh, to eat thy heart and soul. |
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Wolfmoon, |
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Wolfmoon burning bright, through the forests of the night, |
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Wolfmoon, |
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Wolfmoon set him free, from thy gruesome tyranny! |
