2. Clash Of The Elder
I saw creation
Laws of the nature
I saw the world with pride
I saw the fire
Scorching flames of Muspell
I saw the darkest tide
I seek the wisdom
The nature of Yggdrasil
I sought and gave my eye
I saw the Vanir
Granted the twisted truth
I felt the world to die
Ride, Gods of war,
death to the Vanir
Swordsting and axe of blood
Dance with us now
Swordsong will roar to call
Wonders of my vision
We crave a bloodred mound
A thousand deaths to them all
Brothers of vengance
The world is a wound
A wound that bleeds and burns
I saw my brothers
Fall of creators
All for what greed thus learns
Ride, Gods of war,
death to the Vanir
Weapons of wonders
Crafted by dwarves
Clouds break from the sky
Fall to your knees now
Bow before me now
Those who deny will die
Spit in this jar of wisdom
Those who swear alligiance
Brave or just ready to die
Thus was created
A scent of wits and poetry
Storyteller of the High
Ride, Gods of war,
death to the Vanir
5. Home
Across the brigde of colours born
Of fire water and air
Dressed in crimson armours
In hand are bloodwet spears
Reach the entrance heavens gate
Honoured by the brave
See the hall with golden roof
The home allfather gave
Welcome to the hall of death
Great Odin we hail him
Come in, enjoy the glorious afterlife, my friend
Here we fill the ranks of Tyr
Battle is our way
Every morning day and night till the winter fiercest come
Cattle die
All men are mortal
But word-fame never dies
Nor a noble name
Kinsmen die
All men are mortal
But one thing never dies
The glory of the great dead
Enough of tears, enough of wail!
Not to lament in was Valhalla made
The wind as fresh as the air is clear
The greatest of men are here
All einherjer in Odin's court
Fare to fight each day
Select the slain, then leave the battle
Sit after at peace in the hall.
Welcome to the hall of death
Great Odin we hail him
Come in, enjoy the glorious afterlife, my friend
Here we fill the ranks of Tyr
Battle is our way
Every morning day and night till the winter fiercest come
Cattle die
All men are mortal
But word-fame never dies
Nor a noble name
Kinsmen die
All men are mortal
But one thing never dies
The glory of the great dead
6. The Pathfinder & The Prophetess
Who is this man, who for me is unknown
Who forces me to go such a hard way
I am covered with snow, beaten by rain
I am wet through by dew
& death I have known for a long time
I am the pathfinder, accustomed to battle
For whom is the hall decked here in Helheim
Silence not prophetess, I seek your answers
Who shall bring death to the son of Odin
For Balder the mead
A drink for the noble
I was forced to speak
Now silence is my name
Hod shall guide him
Shall be his bane
I was forced to speak
Now silence is my name
Tell me this, who shall punish this deed
Kill Balders killer and place him on the pyre
A child, one night old, shall kill Balders killer
Not wash his hands nor comb his hair
Until the fire burns
Tell me this; What maidens are those,
Who weeps such heavy tears?
You are no Volve, but a mother of giants.
Right you are Odin
See you after the wolf
For Balder the mead
A drink for the noble
I was forced to speak
Now silence is my name
Hod shall guide him
Shall be his bane
I was forced to speak
Now silence is my name