Where cold winds blow I (was) layed to rest

I can not reach my rusty weapons;

The blood and sword that guided my path

For they drowned in the sands of wisdom



I was, indeed, a king of the flesh

My blackened edges; still they were sharp

Honoured by the carnal herdes

But asketh thou: Closed are the gates?



My mind cut my winged weapons

The teeth that was my pride

And from the forest all would hear:

"Wisdom opens the gate for the king"



My weapons sighted - my tears they tasted

Summon my warriors - to the land of desire

To the domain of hate - where cold winds blew

For lust for hell - we rode with the north wind



Only I could accomplish a fucken self-deceit

There are only two paths - the mind or the sword

And the mind was open like the sights in a dream

But the sword was like a stone around my neck



I entered the soul of the snake

And slept with the armageddish whore

(But) Without my throne and my weapons;

Where cold winds blow became my grave