Blood of Men - Sarke

In the misty dawn of vernal paleness

Men will wander 'round the barrow’s stone

Feeling guts of sudden winds and whispers

Words of what the dead asserts to know

Chills the gushing, blood of men

With the carmine, blood of men

In the thickened, blood of men

Chills the gushing, blood of men

Those who enter after dark will find this

Torolv is not resting in his grave

From beyond he drenches his surroundings

Covering the ground outside his cave

He will no let death contain his madness

Bodies will be found on blood red ground

Nature never knew such wicked badness

Moor and waving heather will be drowned

Chills the gushing, blood of men

With the carmine, blood of men

In the thickened, blood of men

Blood of men