| He hung on the windswept world tree
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| Whose roots no one knows
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| For nine whole days he hung there pierced
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| By Gugnir, his spear
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| Swimming in pain he peered into the depths
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| And cried out in agony
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| Reaching out he grasped the runes
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| Before falling back from the abyss
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| He gave himself unto himself
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| In a world of searing pain
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| So that we all may live our lives
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| By the wisdom that he gained
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| You doubted him, and spread their lies
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| Across the world, with sword in hand
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| You raped our souls, and stole our right
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| All for the words of mild-mannered man
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| You listened to mild-mannered god
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| And put your faith in deceitful words
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| Your powertrip was paid by blood
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| In kindness' name you spilled our blood
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| I refuse to submit
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| To the god you say is kind
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| I know what’s right, and it is time
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| It’s time to fight, and free our minds
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| Let me die without fear!
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| As I have lived without it
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| So shut your mouth and spare my ears
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| I’m fed up with all your bullshit
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| After a thousand years of oppression
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| Let the berserks rise again
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| Let the world hear these words once more:
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| «Save us oh lord, from the wrath of the Norsemen»
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| Our spirits were forged in snow and ice
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| To bend like steel forged over fire
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| We were not made to bend like reed
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| Or to turn the other cheek
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| He grasped the runes, they’re ours to use |