The Again-Walker 2

Intro

(Again-walker! Again-walker!)

Valkyrie came — I sent her back empty...

(Hu-ha!) Valhalla's a hall full of plenty —

I had unfinished business in the twenty —

(Again-walker!) The mound couldn't hold me — I'm already...

Verse 1

They buried me deep with the blade and the silver,

Heaped the stone-cairn — thought that cold would deliver.

Packed the grave-goods — thought the dark was my pillar —

Woke up third night and I cracked every timber.

Valkyrie circled with her spear at the ready,

Met her eye to eye — kept my dead-gaze steady.

Told her Óðinn's hall could wait on my eddy —

I've got names on this earth and my grip isn't empty.

Swelled to twice the height when the moon hit the barrow,

Shoulder-width splitting the grave-passage narrow.

Livestock on the hillside dead before morning-sparrow —

Every thrall in the longhouse dreaming my shadow.

They said it was the wind — I walked the roof-ridge nightly,

Pressed the thatch down slow till the timbers creaked rightly.

Three men went mad from the gaze I took lightly —

One glimpse of dead-eye and the mind lets go slightly.

Pre-Chorus

Horses found at morning with their necks at wrong angles (wrong angles)

Milk curdled black in the pail — that's my sample.

The jarl nailed horseshoes and hung iron to trample —

Iron's for the living — I walked through the bramble. (uh!)

Chorus

I chose the mound over mead-hall and throne (hall and throne!)

Valhalla feasts many — the barrow's my own (barrow's my own!)

Again-walker rising from the burial stone (burial stone!)

The dead don't stay buried when the will's fully grown! (Hu-ha!)

Verse 2

They sent the first hero at the dark of the new moon,

Big man, full arms, thought he'd end it by high noon.

Found him at the mound-mouth — heard him humming a war tune —

I let him find me in the dark of the barrow-room.

Grappled in the grave-dirt for the length of a tide-turn,

Felt his strength — good man — watched the confidence die-burn.

Pinned him to the cold stone with the grip of the iron-firm,

One look in the dead eye — watched the sanity unturn.

He lived — I let him — that's the draugr's discretion,

A warning walks further than a corpse for a lesson.

Second hero came with a priest and a blessing —

Iron cross, holy water, Latin-text addressing.

I sat in the mound-dark while they chanted and sprinkled,

When they left I rose again — not even wrinkled.

Third man came alone — no prayer, no symbol, no tinkle —

Just blade and nerve — that one made my dead-eyes twinkle.

Pre-Chorus

Horses found at morning with their necks at wrong angles (wrong angles)

Milk curdled black in the pail — that's my sample.

The jarl nailed horseshoes and hung iron to trample —

Iron's for the living — I walked through the bramble. (uh!)

Chorus

I chose the mound over mead-hall and throne (hall and throne!)

Valhalla feasts many — the barrow's my own (barrow's my own!)

Again-walker rising from the burial stone (burial stone!)

The dead don't stay buried when the will's fully grown! (Hu-ha!)

Bridge

You want to know what I guard in the dark?

(what do you guard?)

Not the silver — not the sword — not the mark.

(not the silver...)

I guard the name before it fades in the stone —

(the name...)

Every deed I ever did — mine alone.

Valhalla wipes the warrior clean of his past —

(wipes it clean...)

I kept the past — that's why I chose to last.

(chose to last...)

The einherjar drink and forget who they were —

(they forget...)

I remember everything — that's the draugr's slur.

I am what I did — every oath and every cost —

(every oath...)

The again-walker keeps what Valhalla gets lost.

(Skál to the mound! Skál — the will that won't break!)

(The dead stay dead until they choose to stay awake!)

Drop — Instrumental

Chorus

I chose the mound over mead-hall and throne (hall and throne!)

Valhalla feasts many — the barrow's my own (barrow's my own!)

Again-walker rising from the burial stone (burial stone!)

The dead don't stay buried when the will's fully grown! (Hu-ha!)

Outro

(Again-walker! Again-walker!)

Third night — every time...

(Hu-ha!)

The cairn cracks.

The name holds.

The will doesn't die.

(Skál.)