In the Woods Isle Of Men The Wings of My Dreamland I will never feel tired Nor fall asleep When these wings at first embraced my heart They would never again leave once it was my dream Now it is my soul Prima Mater unveiled her unknown depths My kingdom is eternal Tell De Døde Tidens sÂr vil ei leges re fremfor alt I kamp med sjel, med styrke og hat Et knos som regjerer Tar over sinnets makt Bak skygger lurer helhet og tap Vidder falt i tÂke Kalde like p frossen mark Menn viker d¯dens kraft I en tid, fylt av sjelens under Blod of tÂrer f¯lger Natten En frykt som gjemmes bort Bak ett sl¯r, gudsforlatt i svart Sverdarmer svinges Og stolthet far vÂre forfedres rot Vi sverget, at mot i en feid skal ei svikte ditt egenmanns blod Forbli da heller sjelel¯s! D¯d, Tomhet og Svik.. ..Blir senket som stÂl Menn krever slaget Menn knuser "tro" Ja, Menn krever d¯den d¯den og fallet for kristenmannsblod Hedensk vi alltid vil seire Og Hedensk vi alltid vil tro Symbolet vil bÊres for styrke Styrken som overgÂr alt. Vi har tapt horder til fiendes blot Men nÂr vi stÂr samlet fortelles det av egenhendig visdom at; Den som intet vÂger, intet vinner. Balder's tegn sÂr h¯yt En ny Êra vil stige Det har blitt fortalt som i ett eldre sagn Med feighet skal feighet forvises Tell De D¯de! In The Woods... Pagan Myths From the deep, eternal forests A true melancholic atmosphere Haunts this hidden world Where men for hundreds of years Have immortalized their cult. One with this world This is where I long to be ...... Creation Of An Ancient Shape See this form of darkness and search its endless feast Floating through this storm immortal histories Cold and destructive Wisdom which hailed from the north crushing all good With a touch of bare skin Spread total fear through them hordes As chaos strikes and weakness dies Armed in iron weapons Die to reach the sky Brave men into battle Allfather, greet me in your hall A creation All it will rise again Warriors strive for vengeance Ancient shapes of creation Wotan's Return Sing for me.. To lift above in all these fallen walls, And bleed for me In the deepest release. Travelling through honour Travelling through strength Voyage floating centuries keeps the key for wisdom Feelings for the "lost" winds Winds which howl reverse Remote, the fields of oddities odours But we will still appear in coats of mail, And still obliterate these "old" origins, While dreaming, a thousand choirs spell their hail Towards faithfulness, become one with thee weapons. Sword and soul Wotan's Return