We walk trough the edge,
Of the end of the world,
The people beyond the southern mountains
Hear the words of the god of
Noise! We had never seen
That thing that you call sun.
And we had never taste
The muses and gods buckthorn. We only sing simple songs
In honour to the caos of the south To live with
The emptyness behind you,
To live getting
Our back to the abyss You don't know what it means!
Of the end of the world,
The people beyond the southern mountains
Hear the words of the god of
Noise! We had never seen
That thing that you call sun.
And we had never taste
The muses and gods buckthorn. We only sing simple songs
In honour to the caos of the south To live with
The emptyness behind you,
To live getting
Our back to the abyss You don't know what it means!
Our simple songs are in honour
To our violent lands
To the word of the oceans
To the roar of Mwono when a glaciar
Falls down! You don't know what means
To live with a father
Like the norwest wind! The god of noise bless this sounds,
And walk again betwen the mountains,
He knows that when the ice die,
The cities in ruins will fed!
Forever! The cities in ruins will fed... Him!
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