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! 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!