The tundra's bitter hold Clutches the land Weaving the forests of old Stalking, the claw The fang and the hand Usurping the will of beast and man Into the winds we ride Beyond the wilds we die From the frost we crawl forth We are Cursed to remain To die another day Marching forth We are the Blood of the north No tide to wash away the sin No place for price nor prize Unsung the stories of our kin No decay and no remorse In these lands Kempt by ice Crowned by moonlight In the eve of dying Soothsayer's songs Send the wind howling A splinter of silver hangs up above An omen unknown Lost before time