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Ett Norrskensdad

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A deed of the northern lights with endless shame
Manslaughter at the dark hour
A sharp stone shattered skulls
He drank life and passion
He drank life and passion

Salty and thick was blood from the bosom
On that night he committed the gracious murder
In his eyes only a beast, no sense
Then he danced the slaughterer’s dance

He climbed to the mountains and hills
He howled and screamed
Taste of murder in the red mouth
A glance of horror in the hour of moon

Salty and thick was blood from the bosom
On that night he committed the gracious murder

In his eyes only a beast, no sense
Then he danced the slaughterer’s dance
Then he danced the slaughterer’s dance

Soon he ran into their forest
He ran past ice and drifts of snow
In endless time and winter’s cycle
Curves of the crescent moon

Salty and thick was blood from the bosom
On that night he committed the gracious murder
In his eyes only a beast, no sense
Then he danced the slaughterer’s dance

Salty and thick was blood from the bosom
On that night he committed the gracious murder
In his eyes only a beast, no sense
Then he danced the slaughterer’s dance

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