Týr – The Rune

Here in darkness
I see you go south on the evening tide, end your fight
Of the subsequent events

Are what’s left of greater times
Hold they nothing more divine
Kin from all harm, raise the song to the mountains majesty for thee
Down from the mountain, cries of an headless love, high above
Futile attempts, you can’t change the way, of our day and age of heathen and Hel
And my heathen kin it was that found and then populated this land
I’ve been living here from when I was born
Lies my land like a rune that’s written by gods upon the
Than the property of land
Here in darkness with my silver bags, let them come in and take what’s mine
Set the thing here and then
Cold seems to me your kiss from the ocean deep, in my sleep
I will rule within my time
Ocean deep, so it reads, thou shalt not enslave thy kin, I

All the islands should be mine
Which are slipping through my hands
See to that these men are dealt as those mighty kings men that came before
But were running out of time

Here in decadence
Who is then this man who demands my scat
He whose mighty ancestors drove mine out of Norway to seek new lands
Wield the axe and make them mine
Line my booth with cloth, black as ravens wings
Swear this oath, I’ll keep my faith and I’ll keep my
Now that millennium has gone

Line my booth with cloth, black as ravens wings
And the sad and weary tales
Here in pain