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 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 raven's wings
See to that these men are dealt as those
mighty kings men that came before
Line my booth with cloth black as raven's wings
Here in darkness with my silver bags
Let them come let them take what's mine
All the islands shall 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 gods upon the
Ocean deep, so it reads, thou shall not
enslave thy 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 that millennium has gone
And the sad and weary tales
Of the subsequent events
Are what's left of greater times.