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Fimbulvetr 2 – Young Ferris, okładka
UtwórWA-jsYSdmV1RlK9

Fimbulvetr 2

Young Ferris

TrapMroczna145 BPMcis-moll4:58
TekstangielskiLicencja dla lokali
0:00z 4:58
−4:58

Zwiastun utworu (30 s)

Najgłośniejszy fragment utworu i karta WeavyAudio – 30 sekund. Otwórz stronę wideo

O utworze „Fimbulvetr 2”

„Fimbulvetr 2” to mroczna piosenka trap w wykonaniu Young Ferris (145 BPM, cis-moll, 4:58, śpiewana po angielsku). Należy do katalogu WeavyAudio i ma licencję na odtwarzanie publiczne w kawiarniach, restauracjach, siłowniach, sklepach i innych lokalach.

Więcej: rap i trap bez tantiem. Więcej w nastroju: mroczna. Kup licencję dla swojego lokalu.

Metryczka

Wykonawca
Young Ferris
Gatunek
Trap
Nastrój
Mroczna
Tempo
145 BPM
Tonacja
cis-moll
Długość
4:58
Wokal
angielski
Licencja
Licencja dla lokali

Słowa kluczowe

  • 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

Dodano 3 miesiące temu · 2.08.2026 · licencja do odtwarzania w lokalach

Tekst· podąża za muzyką

Fimbulvetr 2 – tekst piosenki

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.)

Z katalogu

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