In The Woods...: Isle Of Man Lyrics

I will never feel tired
Nor fall asleep
When these wings at first embraced my heart
They would never again leave
once it was my dream
Now it is my soul
Prima Mater unveiled her unknown depths
My kingdom is eternal

Tidens sar vil ei leges
re fremfor alt
I kamp med sjel, med styrke og hat
Et knos som regjerer
Tar over sinnets makt
Bak skygger lurer helhet og tap

Vidder falt i take
Kalde like pa frossen mark
Menn viker d¯dens kraft
I en tid, fylt av sjelens under

Blod of tarer f¯lger
Natten
En frykt som gjemmes bort
Bak ett sl¯r, gudsforlatt i svart

Sverdarmer svinges
Og stolthet far vare forfedres rot
Vi sverget,
at mot i en feid skal ei svikte
ditt egenmanns blod
Forbli da heller sjelel¯s!

D¯d, Tomhet og Svik..
..Blir senket som stal
Menn krever slaget
Menn knuser "tro"
Ja, Menn krever d¯den
d¯den og fallet for kristenmannsblod

Hedensk vi alltid vil seire
Og Hedensk vi alltid vil tro
Symbolet vil beres for styrke
Styrken som overgar alt.

Vi har tapt horder
til fiendes blot
Men nar vi star samlet
fortelles det av egenhendig visdom at;
Den som intet vager, intet vinner.

Balder's tegn sar h¯yt
En ny era vil stige
Det har blitt fortalt
som i ett eldre sagn
Med feighet skal feighet forvises

Tell De D¯de!

Pagan Myths
From the deep, eternal forests
A true melancholic atmosphere
Haunts this hidden world
Where men for hundreds of years
Have immortalized their cult.
One with this world
This is where I long to be ......

See this form of darkness
and search its endless feast
Floating through this storm
immortal histories

Cold and destructive
Wisdom which hailed from the north
crushing all good
With a touch of bare skin
Spread total fear through them hordes

As chaos strikes
and weakness dies

Armed in iron weapons
Die to reach the sky
Brave men into battle
Allfather, greet me in your hall

A creation
All it will rise again
Warriors strive for vengeance
Ancient shapes of creation

Sing for me..
To lift above in all these fallen walls,
And bleed for me
In the deepest release.
Travelling through honour
Travelling through strength
Voyage floating centuries keeps the key for wisdom
Feelings for the "lost" winds
Winds which howl reverse
Remote, the fields of oddities odours

But we will still appear in coats of mail,
And still obliterate these "old" origins,
While dreaming, a thousand choirs spell their hail
Towards faithfulness, become one with thee weapons.
Sword and soul

Wotan's Return