| My father died when I was ten years old
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| Many kings looked at my lands triving to get a hold
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| But I was old enough to hold a sword and strong enough to fight
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| King Gandalf lost his life. |
| Eystein’s sons in cold earth they lie
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| Now I am a mighty king board lands I own
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| Time has come to find a wife so lonely in my throne
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| Gyda of Hardanger greater beauty eyes will never see
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| My men you go and bade her greetings ask her to marry me Go and tell king Harald I will not marry him until he has subdued the whole of Norway
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| For only than can he be called a great king
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| I make the solemn vow that never shall I clip or comb my hair
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| Until I have subdued the whole of Norway or if not have died in the attempt
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| In Orkedalen king Gryting was beat
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| On his knees he prayed to be my man
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| Eight battles I fought with the host I lead
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| But now Drontheim is in my hand
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| Arnvid and Audbjorn I met them on the waves
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| Of their dragons there were many around
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| But I was mad with anger my bloodlust ablaze
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| And so I sent their ships to the ground
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| I’m standing proud and tall
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| Harald Halfager on your knees you fall
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| United in my hand
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| The king of Norway my fatherland
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| Bow to the king of Norway’s throne
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| United the crown in his alone
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| Now I will comb my hair
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| A firm hand to lead the country on United to hold on hold and strong
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| A king so young and fair
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| I am the king and my word is the law
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| Bow your head or you’ll repent
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| Eric the Red your freedom’s no more
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| Lay down your sword or leave my land
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| Good men leave or good man die
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| But the king stands proud and tall
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| Gravskin you’ll rule, son of mine
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| Cause I can hear the Valkyrs call
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| I’m standing proud and tall
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| Harald Harfager on your knees you fall
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| Bow to the king of Norway’s throne
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| United the crown in his alone
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| Now I will comb my hair
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| A firm hand to lead the country on United to hold on hold and strong
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| A king so young and fair
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| Fresh from the battle field came in Dripping with blood the Norsemen’s king
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| With battered shield and blood smeared sword
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| Slits one beside the shores of Stord
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| With armour crushed and gashed sits he A grim and gastly sight to see
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| And round about in sorrow stand
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| The warriors of this gallant band
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| In Odins hall an empty place
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| Stands for a king of Yngves race
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| Go my valkyries Odin said
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| Go forth my angels of the dead
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| Gondul and Skogul to the plain
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| Drenched with the battles bloody rain
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| And to the dying Harald tell
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| Here in Valhal he shall dwell |