Awaiting in the dead of the night
The werewolves break through the moonlight
Even the man, who's pure at heart
And says his prayers by night
May become a wolf, when the wolfbane blooms
And the moon was pure, and bright
The dead of the night
Even the man, who's pure at heart
May become a wolf
When the wolfbane blooms
And the moon was pure, and bright
Awaiting in the dead of the night
The werewolves break through the moonlight
The dead of the night