Grasp your sword so blindly, time is in for holy war. In the sign of a fairy tale you sacrifice your precious life. Yield to the nonsense, yield
Your wealth and your power Both increase with every day. Theory versus practice as the mould spreads it's way. Ravens fill the sky wolves start
Far down the path of firelight dreams in the blue-spun twilight hours. Along the lane of winding and silk towards the winged and sacred bowers.
Once upon a time there was a restless king in charge. What could he contribute to write some history? Gold he had plenty of but plenty could be
Hor vindar som vill fly, se korpen i himmel av bly. Det ar frosten som nalkas. Var bjork och lind ar nu kal i skogsraets granande sal. Det ar frosten
We dwell in a time of neither night nor day. It's like an ever-eve of a gloaming light. Our robes have gone grey as we sailed to mortal shore.
let the ravens fly, to soar aside our ship of oak as wild oceans we ride. In the prow I stand hungry for dry land. A homeward hammerheart. Northwind
Hold the cross up high into the sky far above your head in sacred decadence. In pride and honour you wear the crucifix as a shield towards the
(Instrumental)
heart. Sweep through the air spy for the prey. Feel your blood pumping and then speed away. Spirit of the hawk wild and free, master of the sky. Creature of the northwind
From a dark horizon a harlot once came, searching for the right path to bring her to fame. Ignorance and falsity: a perfect symbiosis, for a royalty
Forgotten and concealed are the tales of old. Yet the spirits of the field I do behold. A mist-like shape reveals the fiddler in his prime, it'
Tunes of mendacity whispers throughout the gloom, like echoes of mystery or a lullaby of doom An illusion of pleasure an illusion of pain Yield
You grasped a pot of gold, now it looks like led. On your path of hunger the gold lies still ahead. At the end of the rainbow another rainbow starts
Traduzione: Falconiere. Northwind.
