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Acerca de Fimbulvetr
«Fimbulvetr» es una canción enérgica del género Nordic bass de Mirage & Avenue (140 BPM, fa sostenido menor, 5:08, cantada en inglés). Forma parte del catálogo de WeavyAudio y cuenta con licencia para su reproducción en cafés, restaurantes, gimnasios, tiendas y otros locales.
Más: música Nordic Bass libre de regalías. Más por estado de ánimo: enérgica. Licencie la pista para su local.
Créditos
- Artista
- Mirage & Avenue
- Género
- Nordic Bass
- Estado de ánimo
- Enérgica
- Tempo
- 140 BPM
- Tonalidad
- fa sostenido menor
- Duración
- 5:08
- Voz
- inglés
- Licencia
- Con licencia para locales
Palabras clave
- Dark Viking rap
- aggressive gritty male flow
- heavy distorted 808 trap bass
- cinematic Nordic war drums
- deep frame drums
- carnyx and lur war horns
- low male throat singing
- gang war chants
- dark frostbitten atmosphere
- epic and brutal
- ~145 BPMA
Añadida hace 4 meses · 2/7/2026 · con licencia para su reproducción en locales
Letra· sincronizada
Fimbulvetr – letra de la canción
Intro
(Fimbulvetr! Fimbulvetr!)
Three winters — no sun broke through...
(Hu-ha!) Stars going dark, one by one
No harvest, no thaw, no dawn
(Fimbulvetr!) The last fire is all we have left...
Verse 1
First winter hit — we said it would pass,
Banked every ember, rationed the last.
Second winter came and swallowed the grass,
The cattle eye-white, fell face-first in the ash.
Third winter dropped before the second one lifted,
The whole sky shut — like the gods had drifted.
No bird on the branch, no wolf in the distance —
Even death went quiet, kept its own existence.
I split my last loaf fourteen ways on the table,
Looked every face in and lied that I'm able.
A chieftain don't eat when the children ain't stable —
That's the oldest law no skald put in a fable.
Pre-Chorus
Brothers raised the blade on brothers last week (last week)
Kin-slaughter on the frozen lakebed — no sleep.
The Norns cut every golden thread at the seam —
Even the gods go hungry in Fimbulvetr's teeth. (uh!)
Chorus
Three winters, no sun, no thaw, no relief (no relief!)
I carry my dead on a road of ice and grief (ice and grief!)
Fimbulvetr taking everything beneath (everything beneath!)
We hold the last fire — we hold the last breath! (Hu-ha!)
Verse 2
I watched my shield-brother turn on his own blood,
Eyes like a draugr caked in frost and in mud.
Something old broke loose underneath the cold flood —
When the world forgets itself it forgets what is good.
I pulled him back — cost me three fingers and faith,
Dragged him from the lakebed back inside the stockade.
Some scars the cold writes — no skald commemorates —
A chieftain holds the line between the man and the wraith.
Jörmungandr stirring deep below the ice-shelf,
The world-tree groaning, shedding bark by itself.
Mímir's well is frozen, wisdom keeps to itself —
Even Odin's ravens huddled close for their health.
Pre-Chorus
Brothers raised the blade on brothers last week (last week)
Kin-slaughter on the frozen lakebed — no sleep.
The Norns cut every golden thread at the seam —
Even the gods go hungry in Fimbulvetr's teeth. (uh!)
Chorus
Three winters, no sun, no thaw, no relief (no relief!)
I carry my dead on a road of ice and grief (ice and grief!)
Fimbulvetr taking everything beneath (everything beneath!)
We hold the last fire — we hold the last breath! (Hu-ha!)
Bridge
You want to know what breaks a man of iron? (what breaks him?)
Not the blade — it's watching children crying.
(not the blade...)
Not the cold — it's when the strong stop trying.
(not the cold...)
Not the dark — it's the silence of the dying.
I lit the longfire in the center of the hall,
Pulled the weakest closest to the wall.
Told the oldest saga till the young ones slept —
That's the only oath a chieftain kept.
(Skál to the living! Skál to the flame!)
(We survive the dark — that's how we earned our names!)
Drop — Instrumental
Chorus
Three winters, no sun, no thaw, no relief (no relief!)
I carry my dead on a road of ice and grief (ice and grief!)
Fimbulwinter taking everything beneath (everything beneath!)
We hold the last fire — we hold the last breath! (Hu-ha!)
Outro
(Fimbulvetr! Fimbulvetr!)
The fourth dawn is coming...
(Hu-ha!)
Or it isn't.
We burn either way.
(Skál.)
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