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.)
