[Intro]
[The full band attacks without buildup; the riff stops abruptly after seven bars.]

[Verse 1]
The eastern watchman left his place,
With too much drink upon his face.
Two shields were moved beside the wall,
Their painted sides turned toward the hall.
The serving boys had cleared the knives,
But three long seaxes stayed inside.
A log fell inward from the grate;
Ketil glanced once toward the gate.

[Pre-Chorus]
I rose and felt Eirik rise.
The feast went thin before my eyes.
A hand closed hard around my sleeve.
“You doubted once. Now I believe.”

[Chorus]
Before the Benches Break, before the cups are thrown,
Name every man beside you and know where he has gone.
Before the Benches Break, before the first blade shines,
The safest hall can slaughter those who trust its walls and signs.
Before the Benches Break, let every brother wake—
One breath remains for warning before the benches break.

[Verse 2]
Lord Harek called for winter ale,
A horn was filled, a servant paled.
Arnulf stood beside the door,
His boot heel braced against the floor.
Ketil raised his cup to speak;
Fire made a blade across his cheek.
He praised the dead, the lord, the land,
And slowly turned the horn in hand.

[Pre-Chorus]
I struck the table, shouted “Wait!”
My warning tangled with the gate.
The eastern hinges slammed in place.
Eirik drew steel beside my waist.

[Drum Break]
[Snare, floor toms, and table strikes trade rapid stop-time patterns.]

[Verse 3]
The loyal reached for distant spears;
The traitors had their weapons near.
A widow’s brother blocked the stair,
Then saw his oldest friend stand there.
No battle line, no field, no shield—
Only knees and shoulders sealed.
The long board split the room in two;
Each face became a side we knew.

[Bridge]
Ketil tipped his horn at me.
“You watched too long,” he calmly said.
Arnulf raised the hidden edge.
Eirik drove me from its path.

[Break]
The bronze cup struck the beaten floor.
It rolled between the bench and door.
Round and round, its red rim spun.
The first axe fell before it stopped.

[Final Chorus]
Before the Benches Break, the names divide in two,
The man who drank beside you turns his steel on you.
No oath can flee the room once every face must choose;
It lives within the hand that saves or seals a brother’s doom.
Before the Benches Break, one final choice we make—
The cup rolls red across the floor. Now let the benches break.

[Outro]
[One rolling bronze tone is cut off by the first full-band strike of the next chapter.]