The sword can be found on an island Out in a shallow black sea But first you must reckon a price with the ferryman He does not sail for free
I have killed, I have died and forsaken All those who stood by my side Over the waves a dark sword shall awaken And to glory or death I ride
The sailor was tall and seemed made out of driftwood Bleached white as weather-worn bone Though both of his arms began at his shoulders One long fingered hand hung alone
‘A lord of the trolls wove a crown from my fingers That has no right to rest on his brow. That is the price if you’ll cross this black ocean For without me all men are dragged down’
Though I’d not seen a town or a house or a dwelling In this most accursed of lands There were still a folk who lived under the surface To whom I must make my demands
Down I climbed to the bowels of the underworld And met with a lord of the fey Give me the crown with its five wooden fingers So that I might be on my way
The lord was short and most grim to behold With arms like the trunks of a tree His skin was like bark, his eyes small and dark And with these words gave answer to me
“You may not have my crown with its long wooden fingers For too well it rests on my brow But you are quite welcome to come here and take it” And just such a thing did I vow
I have killed, I have died and forsaken All those who stood by my side Over the waves a dark sword shall awaken And to glory or death I rideTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
