Under the seven mountains of the furthest North,
In the womb of ice, the deepest core
Rest in peace my dear old friend,
Till the day they will repent,
By the profane power of the sleeping one,
Let the final harvest come
The seed of tar was sown in ice,
Sprout and grew through the deepest white,
Kiss of grace from the fallen king,
Bend a rose for the unforgiven
Now it’s time to awaken the fallen one,
‘The beast inside, the sleeping son,
We are only waiting for the day when the blood must stain the sea
Now it's time for the frozen one,
To face the cries from hell...,
And those haunting dreams...Too real to me |
