My Skin Is Cold
Satyricon
My skin is cold and the birds fly free
Over my head, where winter grows
A heathen's call, stand up or fall
This world is yours, for you to rule
This, the blood of sin
Flows freely
The unstoppable force
In the naked flesh
My skin is cold "“ your skin is cold
Black metal rock and a scent of leather
And bloodstained gold
With rain and wind come times of change,
And dreams come true
I go with you, on the path we make
Snow covered mountain
I gaze in awe
Wondering who and what was here before
I made my mark on that sacred soil
This phoenix rose from a pit of pain
One nation's man carrying the weight,
Of a people's disgrace
This is the turnaround!
Driven by birthright and godsent will
The time has come for you to rule
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