[Intro]
(War drums begin alone; two horn notes answer before the full guitar march enters.)

[Verse 1]
One spear at the gate with a nick in its head,
Ten shields in the yard painted gold over red.
A hundred dead warriors drank deep from the bowl,
Each boasting the manner in which he was whole.
The benches shook hard with the stamping of heels,
While servants replaced all the cracked drinking seals.
Above Odin’s shoulder two black ravens stared,
Not proud of the army—only counting the scared.

[Pre-Chorus]
Huginn counted helmets, Muninn counted names,
One measured the bodies, one remembered flames.
Odin raised Gungnir; the rafters replied—
But his one living eye kept searching outside.

[Chorus]
The ravens count the spears; the ravens know the sum,
They know how many march away and how few will ever come.
The ravens count the spears while golden banners climb—
“KOR-par-nah minns VIL-kah som dor for NOH-gon AN-nans nahm.”
The ravens remember who dies for another’s name;
No feast can make a future from the arithmetic of flame.

[Verse 2]
Thor checked the leather that circled his hand,
Týr tested a sword on a bright iron stand.
Heimdall said nothing and polished the horn,
Its rim bore a crack where the root had been torn.
The Einherjar shouted that death had no sting,
Then asked for more mead when they heard the wolves sing.
The skald saw young Arvid in each eager face,
A farm-boy made useful by promise and praise.

[Pre-Chorus]
He stepped toward the high seat and called through the hall,
“You know this bright army is ordered to fall.”
[Odin - Baritone]
Odin looked past him, then answered too late:
“A god may know ruin and still serve his fate.”
[Skald - Lead Vocal]

[Chorus]
The ravens count the spears; the ravens know the sum,
They know how many march away and how few will ever come.
The ravens count the spears while golden banners climb—
“KOR-par-nah minns VIL-kah som dor for NOH-gon AN-nans nahm.”
The ravens remember who dies for another’s name;
No feast can make a future from the arithmetic of flame.

[Drum Break]
(War drums count one, ten, one hundred and one thousand through expanding accents.)

[Bridge]
Huginn flew eastward and returned without speech,
Muninn flew downward where no branch could reach.
The hall fell so quiet the mead could be heard—
Odin knew IG-drah-sil had sent him a word.

[Build-up]
Count the spear, count the hand,
Count the furrow left unmanned.
Count the shield, count the son,
Count what remains when praise is done.

[Final Chorus]
The ravens count the spears; tonight they count the cost,
Each point a winter harvest, each shield a doorway lost.
The ravens count the spears while heaven’s pillars chime—
“KOR-par-nah minns VIL-kah som dor for NOH-gon AN-nans nahm.”
The ravens remember who dies for another’s name;
No throne can turn surrender into honor with a flame.

[Outro]
The horns held one long warning.
The benches emptied fast.
Two ravens left the roof beams—
Still counting as they passed.