Heed the capercaillies call.
A premonition of an oncoming war.
Leave behind all that you hold inside.
[ Lyrics from: http://www.lyricsfreak.com/c/cult+of+luna/the+great+migration_20749681.html ]
The howls gets stronger, they are coming.
Wicked is the atmosphere.
Ungodly is the swell.
Our bodies explode in true emotions.

Let the beacon fires burn.
The night is ours.
A maternal light illuminates these last moments.
Far above the truth, we find and we all return to hell.