Woorden: Cataract. Hallow Horns.

A poetic rhythm brought by the storm No grace, no glory - pure pleasure in Pain Two
horned master is on the rise Deaths riding in by the storm they are driven Cant you hear
the screams - we are the damned We are the feast for the unholy priest Master and
Servant, the puppets are on Man has to retreat for the masters brigade Listen ! Listen !
Listen ! to the hallow horn Listen to hallow horn A new race will be born Listen to hallow
horn A new race will be born The undefeatable legion Will kill the great pigeon This is one
of many futuristic and symbolic looks at how the world will once come to an end. Looking
at the wars that are been fought all over the world. We are nothing else than heading
straight into our decline. As we are raising hell everyday, we have woken up the two
horned master. He is awake for the free blood. Soon there will be a big death storm
raging around the earth with his legions leading it. They will come to take our lost souls

and bring back purity with fire. He will be marching in with glory horns and will be leaving
a bloody soil. And we give support day by day.