In the mists of winter's night, the light of the moon upon me
The freezing air it surrounding me, as I walk this path to despair
The frost lays on the ground, as I hunt my life's blood.
Listen for the howling wind, across this cursed earth
What is this I have become, what is the need for flesh
What is this hunger I posses, dying under hunting moon.
What is this need for blood, what is this need to feed
What is this hunger I possess, of murder I have become?
In the mists of winter's night, I hear the call of the wind
This wolf I have become, curse for which I know
My teeth have ripped into your neck, this beautiful creature dies.
The freezing air it surrounding me, as I walk this path to despair
The frost lays on the ground, as I hunt my life's blood.
In the mists of winter's night, I hear the call of the wind
I hear whispering voice, which calls me to hunt again
I hunt for the need, a need to feed and survive
A taste of blood upon my lips, as sun and sorrows fade.
