

Intro
(The wolf! The wolf!)
They feared what I'd do — before I'd done it...
(Hu-ha!) Raised me in their halls — then they stunned it —
Bound me on an island — thought they'd won it —
(The wolf!) Ván flows from my jaw — hope runs from it...
Verse 1
Loki's blood in the marrow — Angrboða's bone-frame,
Born in Járnviðr where the iron-wood got its own name.
Gods took me to Ásgarðr — raised me in their home-game,
Fed me by hand till the hand-size wasn't the same.
Grew past the kennel — grew past the great hall ceiling,
Grew past the thing that the prophecy was revealing.
Saw it in their eyes — that particular feeling —
Not awe — not love — just the fear of what I'm dealing.
They tried Leyding first — I flexed and the chain shattered,
Drómi second — iron links — equally battered.
Third time came the ribbon — six things that never mattered:
Cat's step, mountain root, bear sinew — the impossible scattered.
I knew it was a trick — felt the wrongness in the weaving —
Said: put a hand in my mouth or I'm not believing.
One god willing — Tyr — without flinching or grieving —
I respect the hand he lost — no point in deceiving.
Pre-Chorus
Lyngvi island — Ámsvartnir black around the shore (around the shore)
Gleipnir soft as silk — but I can't move anymore.
Sword propped in my jaw since they walked through the door —
Ván drools from my mouth — the river named for what I'm waiting for. (uh!)
Chorus
They bound me for a future I hadn't made yet (hadn't made yet!)
Prophecy's a prison — I was caged in their headset (their headset!)
Gleipnir's thinning — every age pulls the thread-set (pulls the thread-set!)
The wolf breaks free — Allfather meets his deathbed! (Hu-ha!)
Verse 2
Tyr's hand in my mouth when the ribbon went tighter —
Felt the honesty in him — made the wound feel lighter.
He lost it clean — no flinch — couldn't be a fighter
More worthy of the bite than every other blighter.
I don't hate the one-hand god — he paid what he offered,
It's the ones who schemed the trap that left me coffered.
Odin on his high-seat — prophecy he authored —
Bound me for the futures that his ravens reported.
You fear what I'll become — so you make it certain —
Every chain you wrap around me pulls the curtain
Closer on the outcome that you tried to divert in —
The trap that binds the wolf is what makes Odin's hurt sting.
Ván keeps flowing — that's the joke of my imprisonment —
Named the river Hope — let that land in your amusement.
Every drop that falls is one more age's refinement —
One more season pulling Gleipnir toward misalignment.
Pre-Chorus
Lyngvi island — Ámsvartnir black around the shore (around the shore)
Gleipnir soft as silk — but I can't move anymore.
Sword propped in my jaw since they walked through the door —
Ván drools from my mouth — the river named for what I'm waiting for. (uh!)
Chorus
They bound me for a future I hadn't made yet (hadn't made yet!)
Prophecy's a prison — I was caged in their headset (their headset!)
Gleipnir's thinning — every age pulls the thread-set (pulls the thread-set!)
The wolf breaks free — Allfather meets his deathbed! (Hu-ha!)
Bridge
You want to know what patience actually costs?
(what does it cost?)
Not the years — it's everything you almost lost.
(not the years...)
Not the chain — it's knowing that you're right
(not the chain...)
And sitting still inside the wrong for every night.
I don't rage against the ribbon —
(don't rage...)
Every tremor that you've felt was me just breathing.
(just breathing...)
Every earthquake — me adjusting to the seething.
(adjusting...)
Fimbulwinter means the thread is barely weaving.
(barely weaving...)
When Gleipnir snaps — it won't be rage — it'll be
(Skál to the wolf! Skál — the patience of the bound!)
(The chain breaks clean when the last winter comes around!)
...inevitable.
Drop — Instrumental
Chorus
They bound me for a future I hadn't made yet (hadn't made yet!)
Prophecy's a prison — I was caged in their headset (their headset!)
Gleipnir's thinning — every age pulls the thread-set (pulls the thread-set!)
The wolf breaks free — Allfather meets his deathbed! (Hu-ha!)
Outro
(The wolf! The wolf!)
Ván still flows...
(Hu-ha!)
The river of hope
runs from my jaw.
Gleipnir's almost gone.
(It was always going to be this way.)
Trap · Dark · 150 BPM · 5:21 — Dark Viking trap / Nordic battle rap. Aggressive, deep taiko and frame drums, droning tagelharpa and nyckelharpa, carnyx and lur war horns, slow-building orchestral swells, cold frostbitten mood. Brutal, heroic, war-ready energy with epic drops. Tempo ~140–150 BPM.
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