Ding dong, ding dong, ding dong
Of fir, of Freyja’s tears, of Freijo
In constant continuous circular motion
From the faithful fall of the Fruitful Star
To the smooth sailing of the Silver Star
With two hands, no tongue, I talk to you.
Of fir, of Freyja’s tears, of Freijo
In constant continuous circular motion
From the faithful fall of the Fruitful Star
To the smooth sailing of the Silver Star
With two hands, no tongue, I talk to you.
Click clack, click clack I fall
Summon from Ymir’s skull above soaring high
Like the wondrous wails of Mother Nature’s weeps
For your friends’ sweet battle-sweats splatters
As your fearless fellow brothers take his flame-farewelled.
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