Transilvanian Hunger Songtext
von Deathrow

Transilvanian hunger, cold soul
Your hands are cruel, to haunt, to haunt
The mountains are cold, soul cold
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
Transilvanian hunger


Hail to the true, intense vampires
A story made for divine fulfillment
To be the one breathing a wind of sorrow
Sorrow and fright, the dearest katharsis

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
Transilvanian hunger
My mountain is cold

Ah, so pure
Evil
Cold
Transilvanian hunger