Transilvanian Hunger

Transilvanian hunger cold, soul
 The mountains are cold... soul, cold
 Your hands are cruel... to haunt, to haunt
 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
 Ohh, 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's 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
 So pure, evil cold
 Transilvanian hunger