Flames of the free, just come and take me After I burn it will be your turn Ancient tales tell how life began in the ice and flames of the old world
You who think the hue of your hide means you are to blame And your father's misdeeds are his son's to carry in shame Not mine I'll take no part You can
Brother it breaks my heart How this could be your part Chains of a tyranny Left you in poverty, famine and despair Ill are the tidings too Freedom comes
Ways of the wary and the ordinary Won't take all my time, waste all my days, let me rephrase All expire, I lived by the lyre Follow me To the fields
Take your tyrant Take your tyrant Midwinter's eve falls hard upon the tyrant throne Migrant birds to warmer lands have flown As the tyrant ails, throw
Konning hans han sidder pa Kobenhavn Han lader de lonnebrev skrive Sender han dem til norrejylland Erik Otteson lover at give Der kommer aldrig saa rig
Nine worlds of lore This is the place we keep the weapon of war Why have you come to Jotunheim all alone You must be tired and in vain you have flown
So we feast tonight at Northern Gate We have won the wars of late Hold your head up high tonight Have another horn Even though we won the war today They
Hammertheft and all the world bereft Of reason and of right overnight Left between a tyrant's temper mean And treason and betrayal, cold and stale Hue
Northern wind, hail and thunder, blackened sky All my mind like seagulls soaring high All these eastern ways lock our minds in darkened halls Ride to
A boy gone astray, deceived by a god Remembers the day, bereft of his blood Might to your dismay now equal we meet Self righteous repay, you kneel by
Days are long and nights are cold, the rivers run I'm swept away down distant paths, the road goes on From the halls of the free to the tower of torment
Much may change in the life of a man Now I will sing of how the war first began How these dark days of doom became mine It was the year Nine Hundred And
Many a thing may change during all the days A mighty man wanders free on this earth Kinsmen young may fall by the bitter blade When he heard is when he
Leave now never return, or stay and face the dark. Day of grief, disbelief, weak and weary faces Falling and they're gone, but still remain, and tales
Homeland we're leaving, we are retreiving Our right to stand alone, we cannot stay here Fear not what must be, we must cross the sea On our own standing
Longing eyes turn into the sun Low in the winter Grey as a wolf now the wind has come Cold as a hunter Ride across the sky, thunder roll and lightning
In the mass grave of mythology lie the legends of the past Discarded superstitions, Although once held high both in honour and in awe Now they have fallen
