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Out on the black field

On the hill where the black chapel lies

One can hear winds whispering

And a hundred tortured cries

Banshees wandering through the spheres

Wailing through the air

Call me - First a silent whispering

Now a calling from afar

Souls fly through the misty air

Of spirits who cannot die

Women of old knowledge

Called to be the devil's wife

Banshee...

Banshee calling

Banshee...

Banshee calling

Calling through the...

(The) night is your cloak

As centuries have passed

But the hill still sends its magic

Over the endless landscapes

Calling... descending

Shades at the nocturnal skies

Where hundreds and hundreds perished

Ultimate mental power

Surrounds this place of tragedy

Cold ceremonial night

Standing in the acers ring

With the rustle of the leaves

One can hear the banshee sing

Banshee...

Banshee calling

Banshee...

Banshee calling

Calling through the night