Darkwoods My Betrothed Come Fimbulvetr
The far north Between the snowy falls We stand - we think The time that passed ...The times that are gone For they reminded us Of the times of glory... our pride When our swords could drink The blood of the weak Now they're all gone... Proud men have flown to Valhalla Left behind are only memories That hail us now... We live under a shadow In depression and woe... There hasn't been dignity For a thousand years... There won't be... that's too much to ask Come Fimbulvetr
