Marching Homewards "Minas Morgul" (1995)

Here beside me,under endless howling winds 
my dying race is wandering homewards, 
Led by an old man to shores.that don't exist, 
just emptiness remains... 

On and on goes our march gruesome as the 
light of sun,cold as winds that hide in me 

Hour after hour, day after day my lullaby is 
turning and falls gently on this sleeping land 
like a hawk trembling of hunger and like a 
burning source... 

Two years have passed and still my race is 
wandering through foreign shores... 
homewards.... 

My soul is now formed as a knife forwards 
the heart of your heaven. 
And so I die... 

Still my folk keeps on marching... 
homewards...