| Out of frost and fire, there was chaos long ago
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| Mighty King slew the beast as the Norsemen know
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| From the rushing blood the ocean, hear their thunderous cries
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| From the toilsome remains Indra, make the underworld rise
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| Of his hair he shed the forest, of his skull, the blinding skies
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| Sculpted from his bones tho mountains, beneath them we all lie
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| Lo, today, upon my window
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| Indra carves on every pane to admonish my skeptic smile
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| A new world order again
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| Out of frost and fire, there was chaos long ago
|
| Mighty King slew the beast as the Norsemen know
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| Who shall say the gods have left us or that the power is lost?
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| Flash upon my ruptured sight out of fire and frost
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| Leader of the Gods, lord of the skies
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| He brings a storm of heaven’s wrath to heed our cries
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| A realm awaits our passing, and as our empire dies
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| From the blackened soil of earth the underworld shall rise
|
| Leader of the Gods, lord of the skies
|
| He brings a storm of heaven’s wrath to heed our cries
|
| A realm awaits our passing, and as our empire dies
|
| From the blackened soil of earth the underworld shall rise |