mordminnen

mordaren han bodde i ett torp

lynnet mork som fjadrar av korp

butter och ensam med mord i sinnet

ett dussin drap

han njot av minnet

mord i minnet

han vaktar

han spejar for sina lamm

hatets ande i honom stigit fram

vid vagars kant

vid stigars fara

fylld av slakten

torstig att sara

under ovader blott han sla nu till

nar allting ar stangt

han ata vill

da fangar han mangens nara och kara

deras kott till den morkes ara

fortara!

sina verktyg han putsat val

med dessa han sticker ihjal

torka

vira

slita

riva

han kan sin konst

han grina

mord i minnet

hans ben snart brinna i eldars hav

hans straff

han veta

en hetaste grav

dar han plagas underjord

for sina dad

for minnen av mord

the murderer

he lived in a croft

his mentality dark as feathers of a crow

dour and alone with murder in his heart

a dozen slaughters

he enjoyed of the memory

murder in mind

he guards

he spies on his lambs

the spirit of hatred grows in him

on the sides of roads

at the trenches of paths

filled with massacre

thisrty to hurt

he strikes only during a storm

when everything is done

he will eat

there he catches the close and dear ones of many

their flesh for the glory of the dark

devoured!

he cleaned his tools well

with them hangs them up

dry

wind

tear

grate

he knows his tricks

he grins

murder in mind

his leg shortly burns in the sea of flames

his penalty

he knows

the hottest tomb

there he is cursed under the ground

for his deeds

for memories of murder