Crom Cruach

Hail the crow, tales and mist gather around this mountain.
Where blood out of walls flow, mandrakes under ash-trees grow.
still ravens flight about the rotten carrion in the blood-red snow.

The blazing gold halls, ravens scatter over this mountain.
Where scabbing winds blow,carry far a way the snow.
He call the first born sacrifice and i don't know where the go. Call me to die... Come,thousand times i've never done ...call...come, and thousand will begone.

Hail the crow,tales and mist gather around this mountain.
Where stars and clouds glow, pines and oaks growl.An idol in gold. For that our hands you fold where our blood in rivers cold flow.

Fly crow,fly,unbelievers scatter around thus mountain.
On Samhain night stun calls, on their knees a kingdom falls, betweeb stones of silver,bronze and gold welcome splendid halls.

Call me to die...Come,thousand times ive done
...call...come, on samhain he will be gone.

Thousands fairies we follow, so many were gone
Where the fallen ride,along the path of sorrow.
Cries out from nowhere,echoes fall,
Where black elfes fly,take me to the shadows.

Hail the crow,tales and mists gather around this mountain.
Where blood out of walls flow,mandrakes under ashes-tree grow.
He calls the first born sacrifice and i know where i go....