Texty: Nomans Land. The Last Son Of The Fjord. In The Skin Of A Bear.
Golden rye waits in the fields
For the harvest coming up
Man is waiting for sunise
Bears crown to try on
Wind bends rye spikes to the ground
This time crops are ripen well
Grains are falling like a gold
To the den of bear
The hymn to bearskins will sung
By their children
And when curtain time will come
By children of their children
Let the heart to prompt a term
When it's time to make a choice
And to clothe like king a wood
Fell in the skin of a bear. "The call of ancestors"
The ice chains will be broken by the first coming rill
And sleeply mighty hands will feel free again
Refreshing vital juices will run thru young veins
Drive out the drunkeness and waking the life up
You hear the voices ofthe ancestors around
When the mountain top is red-stained by the dawn
And a ship isrolled on surges from impstiens
Just when your palm touch the hilt of a sword
Be ready for the trials new life is coming on
You'll hear the greatest voices
To take the place beside
They call you. In the kingdom
Where forever brave man live
The Last Son Of The Fjord
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