Down from the mountain, cries of an headless love, high above
|
Cold seems to me your kiss from the ocean deep, in my sleep
|
I see you go south on the evening tide, end your fight
|
Futile attempts, you can't change the way, of our day and age of heathen and Hel
|
|
"I've been living here from when I was born
|
And my heathen kin it was that found and then populated this land
|
Who is then this man who demands my scat
|
He whose mighty ancestors drove mine out of Norway to seek new lands
|
|
Which are slipping through my hands
|
Hold they nothing more divine
|
Than the property of land
|
Set the thing here and then
|
|
Line my booth with cloth, black as ravens wings
|
See to that these men are dealt as those mighty kings men that came before
|
Old and weak I am, a pain behind my eyes
|
Here in darkness with my silver bags, let them come in and take what's mine
|
|
All the islands should be mine
|
But we're running out of time
|
Wield the axe and make them mine
|
I will rule within my time
|
|
Here in pain
|
Here in darkness
|
Here in decadence
|
Lies my land like a rune that's written by the gods upon the
|
Ocean deep, so it reads, thou shalt not enslave my kin, I
|
Swear this oath, I'll keep my faith and
|
I'll keep my
|
Kin from all harm, raise the song to the mountains majesty for thee"
|
|
Now the millenium has gone
|
And the sad and weary tales
|
Of the subsequent events
|
Are what's left of greater times
|
|
The millenium has gone
|
And the sad and weary tales
|
Of the subsequent events
|
Are what's left of greater times
|
|
-----------------
|
The Rune
|
Tyr |