Lyrics:

On the northern winds I ride Under a dead and pale sky With a black cloak of ravenwings That carry me over the gloomy hemisphere In the darkness of destruction Lays an old and cold creature Maimed by the power of the witchking Bearer of the floods of heathen sorcery An aerial servant meets me there Beyond the dimension of fear And guide me to this darkened place Of heathen sorcery The witchking is drawing nearer Slowly returning from his tomb of hellburning horror Demons of demensions turn their their heads To the mist avoiding his eyes of delusion A blast of a fireball burns my suffering soul of madness to dust I can no longer see but I hear the snearing laughter as I slowly cease Possessed by the power of darkness Brought to him by the ancient crafts of pagan fears