Vinland

Intro

(Vinland! Vinland!)

Bjarni saw it first — I went back to find it...

(Hu-ha!) West past Greenland — the grey water behind it —

Three landfalls — the third one — grapevines lined it —

(Vinland!) Leif named the land — Freydís chose to mind it...

Verse 1 — Leif

Erik my father burned two countries getting colder —

Norway to Iceland — Iceland to the boulder

Of Greenland's ice-shelf — each exile made him bolder —

I inherited the west as the next-born shoulder.

Bjarni came to us with the shape of something western —

Saw three coastlines — didn't land — kept the question —

I took his course reversed and rode the pressing

Of the Atlantic current — no chart — no second-guessing.

Helluland first — flat stone — no residence —

Markland second — timber — heavy evidence

Of a world the gods forgot to add in deference

To our maps — then south again — the difference:

Wild grapes on the vine where no vine had the right to climb —

Salmon in the river larger than the Nordic kind —

Grass green through the winter — frost not unkind —

I built the longhouses before I named the find.

Vinland — wine-land — grape-land — call it what it earned —

The westernmost point any Norse keel ever turned —

L'Anse aux Meadows cold on the Newfoundland headland —

Every turf-wall still beneath the bog-peat fernland.

Pre-Chorus — both

Leif: I brought the timber back — Greenland had none growing —

Freydís: he brought the course back — I brought myself — knowing

(knowing what it cost...)

Both: the west was always there beyond the chart's last showing —

The Völsung blood finds every shore worth going. (uh!)

Chorus — both

West past the edge where the known world stops (world stops!)

Vinland green under Atlantic frost-drops (frost-drops!)

Freydís held the shore when every brother drops (brother drops!)

The blade against the chest — that's where the west unlocks! (Hu-ha!)

Verse 2 — Freydís

I came on the second crossing — my own commission —

Þorfinnr Karlsefni's party — my decision

To add the Eiríksson name to the transmission

Of whatever Leif had found — my own permission.

The Skraelings came at dawn from the tree-line running —

Skin-boats on the river — arrows coming —

Every Norse man in the camp turned and was running

Back to the longhouses — I felt the numbing

Disbelief of watching warriors break and scatter

From a people we had never learned to flatter

With the fear they'd earned — I heard the clatter

Of dropped shields — felt the sword — felt what mattered.

Pregnant — heavy — no one left beside me —

I pulled the sword from a dead man's hand — inside me

Something older than the fear they tried to ride me

With — I tore the shift open — let them see.

Blade flat against the chest — the cold steel meeting

Bare skin in the Atlantic dawn — no retreating —

The Skraelings stopped — whatever they were reading

In the woman on the shore made them start receding.

Pre-Chorus — both

Leif: I brought the timber back — Greenland had none growing —

Freydís: he brought the course back — I brought myself — knowing

(knowing what it cost...)

Both: the west was always there beyond the chart's last showing —

The Völsung blood finds every shore worth going. (uh!)

Chorus — both

West past the edge where the known world stops (world stops!)

Vinland green under Atlantic frost-drops (frost-drops!)

Freydís held the shore when every brother drops (brother drops!)

The blade against the chest — that's where the west unlocks! (Hu-ha!)

Bridge — trading

Leif: they'll say Columbus five hundred years from now —

(five hundred years...)

Won't know the turf walls in the Newfoundland brow —

(the walls are there...)

L'Anse aux Meadows silent in the bog somehow —

(still there...)

The first keel west — ours — and we took the vow.

Freydís: they'll tell the story of the woman on the shore —

(tell it right...)

Pregnant — sword against the chest — one roar —

(one roar...)

Not from courage — from the thing that runs before

Courage even names itself — that's the Eiríksson core.

Both: Erik banished twice — built Greenland from the nothing —

(built it cold...)

Leif took the western course — built Vinland from the clothing

(built it west...)

Of a rumour Bjarni brought — Freydís built the loathing

(Skál to Vinland! Skál — the west was worth the going!)

(The blade against the chest — the shore worth holding!)

Drop — Instrumental

Chorus — both

West past the edge where the known world stops (world stops!)

Vinland green under Atlantic frost-drops (frost-drops!)

Freydís held the shore when every brother drops (brother drops!)

The blade against the chest — that's where the west unlocks! (Hu-ha!)

Outro

(Vinland! Vinland!)

The turf walls are still in the bog...

(Hu-ha!)

Five hundred years before Columbus.

Freydís on the shore.

Sword against bare chest.

The Skraelings pulled back.

The west was always ours

to find

and lose

and leave behind.

(The bog remembers.)