SA MEUTE LYRICS

1. Werewolf Cry

I am of the race of those nuts who every lunary month access for a two nights to the throne of madness as almighty sovereigns and rulers of the dark in the gloaming.
I wander in the midst of the doleful moor.
WAAAAAAAOUUUAAAAOUUUAAAA.
Waiting for the painful pleasures of spasmodic metamorphosis and a thousand demons to invade my body and unroot my angel soul to give me the strength of ten and provide me with the cosmic powers.
Tonight is moon of madness bright and full.
She will rise from the east and with her will arise eerie howlings from everywhere so sharp will become my ears that
I will hear my consanguineous brothers cry.
A werewolf crying to the moon.
A werewolf crying to the moon.
Choking with anger.
I am transforming nails and murderous claws hair is monstrous fur my jaws are those of a beast.
My teeth are fiendish daggers.
Feeling no compassion but
I did not anyway.
All my memories gone like ashes with the winds.
My nostrils are tracking the smell of human flesh.
My nostrils are tracking the smell of human flesh.
As I enter the world of sempiternal blood thirst.
As I enter the world of blood thirst.
Eternal glory to the moon.
A werewolf crying to the moon.
A werewolf crying to the moon.
Eternal glory to the moon.
A werewolf crying to the moon.

2. Loki - Thor - Baldr

3. La loi de Poséidon

...Et Zeus leur dit :

" Atlas, Gadiros,
Ampheres, Evaimon,
Mneseas, Autochtonos,
Elasippos, Mestor,
Azaes, Diaprepes

Ont violé les lois de leur père
Dans le temple du Dieu de la mer,
Au cœur des flammes de métal
Les décrets de Poséidon
Les rois Atlantes les ont oublié.

Dans des bras de sang lunaire
Dés l' aube ils ont versé le sang
De leurs propres frères
Ainsi la race des Titans
A semé la misère.

Que la terre devant les colonnes d' Héraclès
Soit à jamais engloutie "

...Mais l'ile ne s'abima pas et le déclin de la race
Semble ne pas avoir de fin à la place
Du palais d' Orichalque triomphe l' dole monstrueuse
Accroupie au fond de son tabernacle...

A-t-on du sang de Titan dans les veines,
Que le souvenir de l'age d'or nous tourmente encore ?

4. Le bouclier et la lance

La terre d'où je viens est dans le Nord
Je sacrifie à Héra aux bras blancs
Ou pointe mon arc sur Phoebos, Appollon
Mais les dieux que je connais sont tous du sang d'Hypérion

En face, mille cavaliers portent la lance à pointe de fer
Leurs noms nous sont connus, leurs visages familiers
Je porte le bouclier et la lance
Armure de cuir noir et de bronze

À mes côtés Pallas, Athéna aux yeux pers m'exhorte de ses cris aigus
Derrière moi les phalanges sont hérissées de piques de bronze.
Elles ont raison des premiers archers qui nous envoient leurs traits
Puis c' est la mêlée à coups de piques d' épées et de glaive

Des pierres immenses brisent des crânes,
Des javelots percent muscles et os.
L'acier tranche ligaments et artères
Cette guerre intestine aura-t-elle une trève ?

Eux aussi connaissent le fils de Zeus et de Latone
Et un de leurs ancêtres eut le trident pour sceptre
Pourtant ils nous combattent avec rage
Et force sous le sombre ciel Ouranien

Avec l' aurore arrivent ceux du dehors qui érigent leur croix de malheur sur nos squelettes
Une église remplace la maison du Cronide aux cinquante Néréides
Sa cloche sonne l' heure pour les esclaves, ceux qui refusent le plan sont assassinés
Jusqu’à' l' aube d' une race nouvelle d'ombres sans âme et sans passé

Ceux-là ne sont plus des fils de Thulé
Les derniers éléphants le sont. Les ours et les loups mais pas eux
La très lointaine Thulé s'éloigne encore, on me croit fou parce qu’à la façon
Des guerriers Atlantes, je porte toujours le bouclier et la lance.

5. Slaves

I push the prisoner to escape to seek for a better prison
The desperate to get away with a rope and try his luck
Again I replace dictatorship with tyranny change anarchy
For chaos quit a master for a mistress drop gods for
the tormenting void I am the sand grain in well oiled
Sysems the so-called margin of error the virus in the
body of community A sailing backwards towards the
Wind instinctive however few feel my heat I am the
Flame of rebellion and sabotage that smoulders and
Burns in the hearts of those who strive for freedom
Slaves ! A liberty with no guard no clear way shown
No guide a total freedom of total war where only the
Strong survive it is that fire that distinguishes persecuted
Wolves from the zombie slaves it is the scoria from
Hell's furnaces that from the cradle mark Lucifer's
Children doomed to see black where others see white
I'm Don Quichotte fighting the wind mills for imbecility
Triumphs and exults and each day gains more disciples
Sailing backwards towards the wind instinctive however
Few fell my heat I am the flame of rebellion and
Sabotage that smoulders and burns
In the hearts of those who strive for freedom

6. Flames

My Dryness is infinite more and more I feel the solitude of roaming between
The same old stones of my walls wich I know inside out yet can not leave
Mournful is my immured existence in this withering fortress barricaded by
Immense unfertile forests the woebegone winds that once were murmurs are
Now endlessly assaulting my eaglenest in irritating howlings
Waouuuuuuuaouuuuuwa seasons follow seasons bringing moroseness and
Wrath only the sight of blood and sound of pain can make me laugh
Someone else is knocking at my cyclopean door outside the red death kills
The rich as well as the poor then in the leaden hours of the black night !
Contemplate a very old painting depicting a sunrise over my very mountains
In flaming colours that I have once seen that I have once seen and
Forgotten since long gone is the craftsman who could attend to the flashing
Gold sky seeming to fucking ablaze the trees and set the whole planet on
Fire the arson scene was hastily seized from the top of some old tower the
Wolrd in flames for sure is the pyromaniac's last fire the world's been raped
And killed and burnt yet still I am not dead I don't really know where I'm
But there it's me the head is it real or is it all just happening in my mind
Standing on the ashes of what used to be my kind

7. Les secrets du sang

8. Her Shadow

I am sound asleep tonight empty whiskey bottlesfullmoon casts it's rays
Through my open windows curtains move slighty like stirred by a breeze
A fleeting shadow enters furtively cold air fondles my skin frightening yet
Pleasing unclear sobs shape to a female voice she speaks to me in sweetest
Tongues her unpure whispers ravish my soul in perdating tunes uttered by the
Evil syren before the sailor gets lostin vicious sighs moaned by perfidious
Statues before the wanderer turns to stone oh how I already know those
Words I have been waiting for your infamous chants how sweet they sound
To my ears chastly and seductive perfume of poisonous flowers I was longing
For your shadow summoning your thirsty ghost desiring your presence
Unblurred to absorb the blood from my veins I was yearning for your hungry
Lips to drink from me till my wounds are unbleedind and let me be the prey
Of my mistress

9. Bizarre Employer

Anchor is Weighed my vessel departs from, the shore down
There amidst oblong boxes and rats I'm lying in the
Darkness of the hold my presence unsuspected from the
Crew who carried me on board yesternight speaking about
The bizarre employer they've never seen him know not
Who he is the contrast is to ship his fucking boxes who
The hell knows why they're filled with bloody earth but
One casket contains not of his native soil... Master on
The land I'm still master on the seas provoking finest
Weather storm or disease a pact with mighty Mefisto has
Made me what I am in times when lives were lived with
My blood I signed my name I initialized the clause of the
Pact from wich one cannot retract unbelievable small
Letters something about my soul's ownership...

10. Huginn et Muninn

SA MEUTE LYRICS