1. |
The Forging
02:01
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2. |
Wayland the Smith
04:27
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Captured by the king
Lusting for his maiden
Crippled and imprisoned
To be a slave he’s fated
Shackled and chained
Robbed of all treasure
Sent off to an island
To be enthralled forever
Vengeance of the Elf lord
Cruelty and malice
Beheading the Athelings
Skulls into chalices
Walk backwards through the snow
No one ever knows
Cross his path and die
Vengeance his heart cries
By the deck of a ship
By the edge of a shield
By the back of a horse
And the blade of a sword
Blood on the bellows
Your sons lay dead
Drink from the goblets
That were chiseled from their heads
Like eagles fly
I will soar
Now that your sons
They draw breath no more
Through the mists of time
My legend grows
Memories of vengeance
Of hammer blows
Behold Wayland
Defeater of the king
Behold Wayland
Bearer of many rings
Go down to Ashbury
Walk to the circle of stones
There you will hear the pounding of steal
And the crushing of bones
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3. |
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An isle so fair, a isle so green,
Known by many names.
Feel the pulse, the pulse of the land,
The blood boils within your veins.
Someone go down to the Holy Well and raise the Spirits there!
Lay a feather on a stone, with a flame, and a lock of hair.
The Crane, the wolf, the bear and the boar,
No longer dwell upon these shores,
You say that the Goddess and God have gone,
Well I tell you they live on!
For in the cities and hills,
And in circles of stone,
The voices of the Old Ways,
The Spirit of Albion is calling you home!
From Manwydden’s crashing sea,
To the moor and the Highland Glen.
From the Faerie Hills, home of the Sidhe,
To the veins of the Broad and the Fen.
Someone go down to the Holy Trees of Oak and Ash and Thorn!
Utter a charm in the verse of three,
Till the Summer King is born!
The Crane, the wolf, the bear and the boar,
No longer dwell upon these shores,
You say that the Goddess and God have gone,
Well I tell you they live on!
For in the cities and hills,
And in circles of stone,
The voices of the Old Ways,
The Spirit of Albion is calling you home!
Ride the white horses carved into the hills,
Walk to the Hanging Stones.
Bow to the might of Cerne Abbass’ height,
Feel the peace in the Ancestors’ homes.
Someone go down to Wilmington where the Giant guards the way!
Step into the Otherworld, into the womb, where centuries pass like a day!
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4. |
Black Riders
02:59
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In days of old
Nine mortal kings
They were corrupted
By the Dark Lord's ring
Became the Nazgûl
Ride from Mordor
Ride in darkness
Forevermore
Run Frodo
Run Frodo
Got to make haste
Nine black riders
Dark immortal wraiths
Sent by the Witch King
From the Black Gate
Ride the dragon
Fly away!
Nowhere to run
Nowhere to hide
Beware the Ringwraiths
Onward they ride
The Black Riders
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