Loki's Smile on the Axe-Handle (wersja 2)

Verse 1 – male vocal

Steel against bone, frost on the rim (frost on the rim)

Fenrir's jaws wide open but I keep him locked within.

The wind it howls like a chorus of ravens (chorus of ravens)

As I swing this axe with Loki's grin.

I've seen the world go dark beneath the same moonlight beam

Where the Norns weave fates and giants come to dream.

My hand it guides the steel through all that ice and stone

And every blow strikes true where my enemy does moan.

This is not the fight of gods — this one's for the earth below (for the earth below)

Every step I take, a piece of Hel's own throne goes low.

Pre-Chorus – distorted ad-libs

Feel the world go quiet under Loki's laugh (laugh)

Feel the ice begin to break... the serpent starts to crawl.

Let the giants fall where they stand like statues in the snow (in the snow)

I am not a god, but I will be the one to show.

Chorus – anthemic belting

Loki's smile on the axe-handle, burning bright and wide (wide)

Verse 2 – male vocal

Every blow chips free a little more of Fenrir's chain (chain)

And with each strike that lands I hear him let out a wail.

I've walked the halls where Odin keeps his secrets deep (keeps his secrets deep)

Where he hides behind a mask and speaks in riddles asleep.

But I don't need no prophecy, no thread to guide my hand (no thread to guide my hand)

This axe will write its own story across the northern land.

I've seen the giants tremble at the sound of Mjolnir's roar (at the sound of Mjolnir's roar)

But I'm not armed with thunder — only fire and a score.

The world it knows me by my name, a mortal in this place (this place)

Pre-Chorus – distorted ad-libs

Feel the world go quiet under Loki's laugh (laugh)

Feel the ice begin to break... the serpent starts to crawl.

Let the giants fall where they stand like statues in the snow (in the snow)

I am not a god, but I will be the one to show.

Chorus – anthemic belting

Loki's smile on the axe-handle, burning bright and wide (wide)

Bridge – sparse, spoken-sung ad-libs

No prophecy, no thread... just the iron in my hand (hand)

Fenrir's teeth are shattered... Hel's own gates begin to stand.

I am not a god... I'm only what I've made (made)

Chorus – anthemic belting

Loki's smile on the axe-handle, burning bright and wide (wide)