[Instrumental]

Once of Northern blood
Death and tragedy
Everything in you
Ghosts and mystery

Under the grey banners of skies
Where falkons sing their pride
What haunts your iron dreams
Motherland Ostenvegr?

Endless fields
Mists and horrid woods
Barrows by the riverbanks
And autumn wind above

Long forgotten songs
Human bones in the dirt
Helmets and swords in rust
The smell of graves and autumn soil

Mighty olden oaks
Always speak to me
With their grim voices of the dead
With their neverfading memories

Once of Northern blood
Death and tragedy
Everything in you
Ghosts and mystery

Spirits of snow haunt this air
Dreams of a hanged man on the oak
And Ravens speak their curses in ancient tongues:
Come, the Murderer, Dreadful Ygg

Where the old pinewoods pierce the skies
Like the crooked runes of death
Stain the sunset in blood
Come, the Enemy, Dreadful Ygg

Winterwitch breathes the cold smoke
In the poems of Distant night
Nordic heroism and seven winds
Come, The Murderer, Dreadful Ygg

Deadmen call your name
With the painted faces of Yule
With the horrid faces of Winter
Come watch this world through our eyes

Ghostmen call your name
With the painted faces of Yule
With the horrid faces of Winter
Come, cut the throats with our hands

Wolfmen call your name
With the painted faces of Yule
With the horrid faces of Winter
You're in each of us...

[Instrumental]

Grim woods of extinct northern lands
Where only spirits walk upon the overgrown paths
Towards the sunsets over ancient labyrinths of stone
And pagan monoliths are yet to pierce the skies

Horned moon spills it's stellar grief
Unto the silver mirrors of the crystall lakes
Where titanic ruins dream their endless dreams
Awaken ghosts of glorious past, of rise and downfall

Grim woods stand as the hosts of old
With rusty helmets and the broken spears against the sky
The silent witnesses of countless ritual murders
And evil sorcery is spilt among these winds

Distant thickets echo with the ghastly screams
From the cursed pagan altars of the tortured souls
Old gates of wisdom closed, unreached
Forgotten, sealed with keys of blood

Grim woods are listless, cold as hearts of men
The men that did forget their own roots
The answers are known, yet none shall speak
Where only spirits walk upon the overgrown paths

[Instrumental]