The thirteenth of November Full moon lights the sky Ghouls gather to chant They summon the fog Horns emerge from the fog The lamb's throat is slit Blood floods the coffin Their shepherd is here
The fog The fog Black stinking fog
Now the dead shall rise Floating through the fog Clutch on crucifix The gates begin to open Finally the time has come Shepherd leads his flock Into the valley of fog They'll wait for you
