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Fimbulvetr 2 di Young Ferris — copertina
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Fimbulvetr 2

diYoung Ferris

TrapCupa145 BPMdo♯ minore4:58
TestiingleseCon licenza per i locali
0:00su 4:58
−4:58

Trailer della canzone (30 s)

Il passaggio più intenso della canzone, con la scheda WeavyAudio: 30 secondi. Apri la pagina del video

Informazioni su Fimbulvetr 2

«Fimbulvetr 2» è una canzone cupa di genere trap, di Young Ferris (145 BPM, do♯ minore, 4:58, cantato in inglese). Questo brano fa parte del catalogo di WeavyAudio ed è con licenza per la diffusione in caffè, ristoranti, palestre, negozi e altri locali.

Altro: rap e trap senza royalty aggiuntive. Altro per atmosfera: cupa. Ottenga una licenza per il suo locale.

Crediti

Genere
Trap
Atmosfera
Cupa
Tempo
145 BPM
Tonalità
do♯ minore
Durata
4:58
Voce
inglese
Licenza
Con licenza per i locali

Parole chiave

  • 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

Aggiunto 3 mesi fa · 02/08/2026 · con licenza per la diffusione nei locali

Testi· seguono l’audio

Fimbulvetr 2 – testo

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.)

Dal catalogo

Anche su WeavyAudio

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Lato A

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Lato B

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