Where Cold Wings Blow I (was) laid 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 Herds

 But asketh thou: Closed are the Gates?

 

 My Mind cut my Winged Weapons

 And 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