The rising of our tribe - Abigor

I sent black birds to the sky

I set a sign for my hate

To darken the day

To beat back the light

Winds storm above this wasteland

A first flickering of rage

Dark clouds keep me sheltered

Don’t move before moonrise

Don’t move before moonrise

We gather in the name of our pagan ancestors

The teutonic spirit burns in our hearts

What once was ours will be taken back

Rising our tribe like the upcoming winter-age

Upcoming winter-age