Transylvanian hunger, cold soul
Your hands are cruel, to haunt, to haunt The mountains are cold, soul, soul
Careful, pale, forever at night Take me, can't you feel the call?
Embrace me eternally in your daylight slumber To be draped by the shadow of your morbid palace
Oh, hate living
The only heat is warm blood So pure, so cold
Transylvanian hunger Hail to the true, intense vampires
A story made for divine fulfillment To be the ones breathing a wind of sorrow
Sorrow and fright, the dearest catharsis Beautiful evil self to be the morbid count
A part of a pact that is delightfully immortal Feel the call freeze you with the uppermost desire
Transylvanian hunger
My mountain is cold So pure, evil, cold
Transylvanian Hunger