Níðhöggr 2

Intro

(Corpse-gnawer! Corpse-gnawer!)

Before the gods were named I was already eating...

(Hu-ha!) Root in my jaw — ancient — never completing —

Niflheim dark and the world tree bleeding —

(Corpse-gnawer!) The dragon beneath everything — proceeding...

Verse 1

Ginnungagap — the void before the making —

I was in the dark while the first frost was breaking.

Before Odin breathed the ash-tree into waking —

Before the first word formed — I was already taking.

Yggdrasil's root three — the deepest goes to Niflheim,

That one is mine — been mine since the first cold-time.

Góinn, Móinn, Grábakr gnawing on the sideline —

Gráfvölluðr, Ófnir, Sváfnir — all in my decline.

But Níðhöggr leads the gnawing — I go deepest —

Jaw into the heartwood where the root runs steepest.

The world tree shudders — thinks the wound's the weakest —

The wound's been there since Yggdrasil was newest.

Gods built their bridge and hung their golden city,

Drank their mead and called the age pretty.

I kept chewing — didn't ask for pity —

The root beneath the hall decides the committee.

Pre-Chorus

Eagle sits above — ten thousand miles of trunk between (miles between)

Sends his insults down through Ratatoskr's routine.

I send mine back up — we've maintained this since the green —

The oldest feud in all nine worlds — and still obscene. (uh!)

Chorus

I don't fight for glory — I just chew through the base (through the base!)

Every root that holds the worlds — I'm in that space (in that space!)

Before the gods, after the gods — same cold place (same cold place!)

Níðhöggr never stops — the gnawing sets the pace! (Hu-ha!)

Verse 2

Náströnd — the corpse-shore — that's my second table,

Murderers and oath-breakers — fully able —

I process what the human world marks unstable —

Every broken vow gets chewed into the fable.

You swore on the ring and you broke it by the morning —

You killed your guest-friend without any warning —

You took the widow's land — no legal honouring —

Náströnd's where the consequence starts performing.

I'm not punishment — don't mistake the nature —

I'm what happens after every failed administrator.

The system breaks — the bond decays — I'm the translator —

Entropy has always been the oldest legislator.

Ratatoskr comes with the eagle's latest insult —

"Níðhöggr gnaws alone in the failure-cult" —

I chewed a foot of root before the difficult result

Of composing my reply — sent it up to the adult.

Pre-Chorus

Eagle sits above — ten thousand miles of trunk between (miles between)

Sends his insults down through Ratatoskr's routine.

I send mine back up — we've maintained this since the green —

The oldest feud in all nine worlds — and still obscene. (uh!)

Chorus

I don't fight for glory — I just chew through the base (through the base!)

Every root that holds the worlds — I'm in that space (in that space!)

Before the gods, after the gods — same cold place (same cold place!)

Níðhöggr never stops — the gnawing sets the pace! (Hu-ha!)

Bridge

You want to know when Yggdrasil first shuddered?

(when did it shudder?)

Not at Baldur's death — that was just a flutter.

(not Baldur...)

Not at Fenrir's chain — the wolf just muttered.

(not Fenrir...)

Not at Fimbulvetr — cold just stuttered.

The shudder that means something — that's the structural —

(the structural...)

When the root I've gnawed hits something sculptural —

(hits something...)

Something load-bearing — something fundamental —

(fundamental...)

That's when even Odin gets sentimental.

Ragnarök isn't coming — it's the consequence

(the consequence...)

Of everything I've done in the dark since hence.

(since the dark...)

I don't cause the ending — I reveal it —

(reveal it...)

The rot was always there — I just unseal it.

Then I fly — wings spread — corpses on each side —

(Skál to the gnawer! Skál — the last to ride!)

(Níðhöggr leaves the root — nine worlds open wide!)

Drop — Instrumental

Chorus

I don't fight for glory — I just chew through the base (through the base!)

Every root that holds the worlds — I'm in that space (in that space!)

Before the gods, after the gods — same cold place (same cold place!)

Níðhöggr never stops — the gnawing sets the pace! (Hu-ha!)

Outro

(Corpse-gnawer! Corpse-gnawer!)

The root finally gives...

(Hu-ha!)

Wings spread.

Corpses stacked.

The dragon flies out last.

(I was always the ending.)