1. NEBULAHAIMAZ I

As the black ash falls, in the dead of night,
Eyes of anti-cosmic poison meanders profound,
To rune staves I cast in my cold blood,
Incense smokes through the black deep,
Lashed by the storms of the nightside knowledge,
Where ever I might fly away, those ones go with me

As the Void is flooding through the windows,
I fossilise in the frozen state of meditation,
Concentrated on the primary rune of trance,
Under the cold-hearted radiation of Isaz,
Drowned in eleven waters of Élivágar
I strive for the creeping Gullveig's gifts

Icy stillness slowly sinks fylgja into oblivion,
Numbs all limbs into ceaseless sleep,
Beneath gleaming cobwebs of hoarfrost,
Deep in the journey for hidden wisdom,
Gullveig hears my footsteps as I pass,
And paint footprints like a bloodstained trace

As the Void gazes straight into me,
I fall into the harsh cold of ascension,
Nifl-essence extinguishes the fires,
Within the feverish mind and though,
Rune of the Isaz induce a deathlike trance,
Bringing me closer to the secrets of Emptiness


2. NEBULAHAIMAZ II

Every summer seems to die,
And the winter is emerging.
Eerie auroras starts to shine,
As I am waiting impatiently,
To see the reflection of lurid fate,
In the morbid waters of Hvergelmir,
Is this will to be the gleam of forthcoming bliss,
Or it will come out as the hoofbeat of brooding doom?

The last triumphant sip from the horn,
Full to the brim with a berserk solution,
The coldest climax of winter,
Flew across the diaphanous sky,
Glow-worms started to stagger in between,
My desolated past and the apocalyptic future,

One black candle on the horse's skull,
And one is impaled on glass candelabrum,
Sacrificial liver with cirrhosis is served,
With belladona, myrrh and haze of hemp,
Pine resin melted in the charcoal carrier,
Blazing wand shall light the coming night,

By Niflheimr’s powers summoned by Trolldómr,
Straight out of the shackle of Cosmos,
I am drinking and absorbing the otherwordly Eitr,
To rise above the crap of wretched reality,
With my will to flow beyond the mundaneness,
A voice of the void is calling in the wilderness,
Prepare the way for the Chaos, make his paths straight


3. NEBULAHAIMAZ III

From the Void we came,
To the Void we could only go,
All we have to offer and to treat,
Are molded remains,
Sacrificed on staves,
Rotting head of pale Niðstang's mare,
For everything we left behind,
And our livers, eyes and jinx,
To half-black Hel upon Gleaming Bale,

There is nothing certain but death,
Vitriolic gift as salvation from pain,
Murderess of jarls and deliverance of thralls,
For the soul to behold more and more,
Of deep-buried secret fate of all lives.
To breathe the miasma of Niflheimr,
As the Heldrasil neighs in the deeps,
Half-white Hel takes us for a ride,
Death is the only gift of life


4. NEBULAHAIMAZ IV

With my left hand I built a wall
Which night your god creeps on
Polar vortices cut the psychosphere,
They cut the intestines of astral fetuses,
Hooves in the yard are trampling on the pulp,
Chicks and larvae of stellar bastards

Omnipresent hospitality,
She was sweeping me off the threshold
Chips and snow straight in the face,
I have come to the end with the Left Hand Path
I called the Wolf over the smoking black
That he would break the prison of concrete and rust,

Through a barbed wire fence,
A rope hangs from the moon every night
The undertaker's shovel slowly digs down,
Lif and Lifthrasir will not find shelter,
The blood of the world clogs with a clot

I breathe a corrosive miasma in a frozen garden,
And the spruce coffins are still rising,
Necrocosm cold resistant,
I'm waiting for a drakkar with dead nails,
Sköll and Hati will finally catch up
To the princes and the sun,
And Garm will yell loudly in front of Gnip's pit


5. NEBULAHAIMAZ V

Spectre of the wound-fever,
Lord of the giants!
Flee now! You are found.
Have for yourself three pangs,
Wolf! Have for yourself nine needs,
Wolf, Wolf.
Make good use of the charm!


6. NEBULAHAIMAZ VI

Amongst the darkest Void, eternal night holds no solace,
Ginnungagap is adorned with foo-fighters of Loki,
The Draugr's jarls of Naglfar cast the life away,
And my flaked mind is absorbed, as I seek to find the
True self,
Through the mangled palisade of Askr Yggdrasil

Hanged in trackless wastes of rime-covered home,
To enshroud all holes in the rind with Galdr.
Against teeth of time and hazards of Cosmos,
With honest heart I am reaching the threshold,
Clawing myself beyond the rusty bars of Midgard

I fall into the otherworldly frost creeping into me.
Ripped adrift from the world below,
From Void with love, this is the vision,
For spellbound mind rising on the neck of Nídhöggr,
Death's grip is utimate,
And the Gnosis is radiating,
Far away in the pits of Nothingness,
Where my spectre will roam


7. NEBULAHAIMAZ VII

East in the Ironwood sat the old One,
And breeding Fenrir's kin there;
Of them all one shall become the
Moon's pitchfork in troll guise.
He gorges on lives of death-doomed men,
Reddens the skies with gore,
The summer sun darkens, wild storms arise-
Do you seek to know yet more?


8. NEBULAHAIMAZ VIII

Hail is the coldest of grains,
Which melts over my bruised flesh,
From the cloud of hornets I try to ride,
Strikes me with debris and splints,
Till the black blood flows,
As I try to conquer own demise,
Climbing on the scathing briar,
Slimy of the frozen sludge of the Norn’s barf

So I choose the road to the north,
To the barn woven with serpent’s spines,
Where every roof is soaking with venom,
To call this madness home,
Fading the good into bad,
Hand in hand with murderers,
And breakers of every oath,

Why am I the last man standing,
On the tough road, nobody wants to go,
When the hailstorm is washing away,
Everything to their bare essence,
And frenzy and mayhem,
Of majestic, desolate Hagalaz,
Following me step by step


9. NEBULAHAIMAZ IX

Through smokes of blót and icy stillness of Seta,
I see the desolate woods of all-wise hag,
Cunning tongue casts the runes of Uþark,
Járnviðr blossoms well, full of the foul magick,

Free from wandering distraction of life,
Rattling the chains made of razor-blades,
Bizzare Myrkviðr’s ways are leading me,
Under the charm of Ironwood’s Woman,

Dark corners of the Earth are encircled,
By venom of Jörmungandr, born from her womb,
Pits of Helheimr have all that has value and worth,
Slayed and vexed by Hel, her half-dead bairn,
Stolen fire of stars is glowing under her cauldron,
Dragged by the Fenrisúlfr her rabid son,

Thrice burned and thrice born shining Witch,
Is leading me through the barbed wire and thorns,
As the coldest light within the blinding fumes of ignorance,
Dreadful maiden, mother and crone in one,
Is pouring the Eitr with the force of her breath,
Iron-Willed Gullveig, come now forth,
With the secret arts from the Outside,
Guide me with your Hidden Light


10. NEBULAHAIMAZ X

Golden trees of æsir are falling spirally,
Unto the cesspit at the bottom of Cosmos
Wisdom springs from Yawning Void,
Limitless in power and lawless in madness,
Black as the absence of false light,
So, the Hidden One reveals hers fangs,

Gruesome force is ripping the golden bonds,
To disembowel the bulk of cosmic drunkard,
Journey of Spirit starts across the decay,
Far away from here, toward the Void,
The ember of freedom is flowing our bloodline,
Within the knowledge of the Giants

Anti-cosmic essence is glowing in wild trance,
Primordial witchcraft from without the creation,
The worlds behind us are rotting and falling,
And lawless souls are striving for Chaos,
Hungry for bliss of the coldest nights,
Redeemed by the Gullveig’s gifts


11. NEBULAHAIMAZ XI

(Instrumental)