Old Season Bitter Is The Wind
Grand old Vikings ruled the oceans vast
Their brave battle songs still thunder on the blast
Riding in its might, bring tyrants to their knee
The flag that flies above is the love of liberty
Bitter is the wind tonight
White tresses of the sea
Heed now O king, what honour I bring
Silence I pray, while I speak my lay
Your exploits to tell, which all men know well
Only Odin can say where the dead lay
Sword metal peeled on rim of shield
Their fate it was sealed on the battlefield
The king advanced while axes danced
Distant shore heard the clamour of war
Blood ran free, beyond the sea
I praise this king throughout his land
And keenly sing his open hand
His hand so free with golden spoil
But vice-like he grips his own soil
Sword metal peeled on rim of shield
Their fate it was sealed on the battlefield
To praise my lord, this tight mouth broke
The word floods poured, the still tongue spoke
From my poet's breast these words, they took wing
Now all the rest may learn to sing
Bitter is the wind tonight
White tresses of the sea
