Transilvanian Hunger Lyrics - Transylvanian Hunger - Dark Throne

Transylvanian hunger, cold soul 

Your hands are cruel, to haunt, to haunt 

The mountains are cold, soul, soul 

Careful, pale, forever at night 

Take me, can't you feel the call? 

Embrace me eternally in your daylight slumber 

To be draped by the shadow of your morbid palace 

Oh, hate living 

The only heat is warm blood 

So pure, so cold 

Transylvanian hunger 

Hail to the true, intense vampires 

A story made for divine fulfillment 

To be the ones breathing a wind of sorrow 

Sorrow and fright, the dearest catharsis 

Beautiful evil self to be the morbid count 

A part of a pact that is delightfully immortal 

Feel the call freeze you with the uppermost desire 

Transylvanian hunger 

My mountain is cold 

So pure, evil, cold 

Transylvanian Hunger