My Skin Is Cold - Satyricon

My skin is cold and the birds fly free

Over my head, where winter grows

A heathens call, stand up or fall

This world is yours, for you to rule

This, the blood of sin

Flows freely

This unstoppable force

In the naked flesh

My skin is cold — your skin is cold

Black metal rock and a scent of leather

And bloodstained gold

With rain and wind come times of change,

and dreams come true

I go with you, on the path we make

This, the blood of sin

Flows freely

This, unstoppable force

In the naked flesh

My skin is cold — your skin is cold

Snow covered mountain

I gaze in awe

Wondering who and what was here before

I made my mark on that sacred soil

This phoenix rose from a pit of pain

This, the blood of sin

Flows freely

This, unstoppable force

In the naked flesh

My skin is cold — your skin is cold

One nations man carrying the weight,

of a peoples disgrace

This is the turnaround!

Driven by birthright and godsent will

The time has come for you to rule

This, the blood of sin

Flows freely

This, unstoppable force

In the naked flesh

My skin is cold — your skin is cold