Besedila: Darkthrone. Circle The Wagons. Running For Borders.

Drowned in stellar dust
We create beginning and end
Crumbles constantly
We know the center of End
Who are you on stage?

Breathe deeply
Lungs filled with waste
Running for borders
Helpless heart
Pumping fuel, veins splintered
Thoughts divided

Building up chaos
Torn from haven
Answers never come
Floating wisdom

Ancient in its purest form
Gravitate towards center
Visuals fade
This is the realm of power

Stellar detonations
Universe is gloating, hovering
Judge, jury and executioner
Now freeze
Veins injected with time