Arkhangelsk

Willed by winters so called frost

Fixed the anxieties from grip

The frost that burned the honorees

Underneath the heavy clouds

The lifted sword, the broken shield

The end that drew the final word

From the frozen mouth of Arkhangelsk

Let them go, let them burn the world to cinders

Let the rats run down

Falling through the tungsten skies

The burning clouds of Arkhangelsk

To the eye of judgment now

What will stand when the time of the end

Time of the end

Center stone into fire

On to nothing and nothing to lose

They gather, groaning to the souls

Of the grinding winds of Arkhangelsk

In the world when movement in

The fabric, everything dies

The storm that sweeps the world away

From the frozen plains of Arkhangelsk

You hear it from the morning star

What others brought

And the land, forgot

Soaring through the nether mills

Through blazing stars, the time suns

The grinder now that carries us

Through the bloody end of Arkhangelsk