[Intro]
[The opening strike continues directly from the rolling cup at the end of the previous song.]

[Verse 1]
Arnulf’s axe split bench and bone,
The eastern doors were barred with stone.
Horns burst beneath the trampling feet,
Hot ale ran through salted meat.
Lord Harek rose beside his chair;
A spear went through him halfway there.
His high-seat cloak caught on the blade,
Then folded where the oath was made.

[Pre-Chorus]
No ranks to form, no room to wheel,
Only breath and wood and steel.
Every face stood arm’s length near;
Every shout belonged to fear.

[Chorus]
Blood in the Oak, red in the grain,
Running through grooves cut smooth by the plane.
Blood in the Oak where the oath bowls stood,
Brother struck brother and stained brotherhood.
Blood in the Oak, no river runs clean;
The long table remembers what weapons have seen.

[Verse 2]
Eirik met the downward edge,
His cracked shield caught it at the wedge.
He drove his shoulder through the press,
And opened me one step of breath.
I struck the man behind his side;
A broken cup tore through my hide.
Then Ketil came across the board,
Still calm behind his borrowed sword.

[Instrumental Break]
[Twin guitar leads collide in opposing keys while drums alternate sprinting bars and sudden silence.]

[Verse 3]
The banner caught from Harek’s torch,
Gold tusks curled black above the porch.
Men tore the cloth to stop the flame,
And split the boar across its frame.
Eirik called my childhood name,
A sound I had not heard in years.
Ketil’s seax went under mail;
His voice fell short, his knees gave way.

[Breakdown]
I caught him hard against my chest.
His blood ran hot beneath his vest.
His fingers closed and found me there.
I held him living, then held death.

[Bridge]
[The oath motif appears in distorted tagelharpa beneath near-silent drums.]

Two fingers touched the bronze that night.
Those same two fingers lost their fight.
The bowl lay crushed beneath the seat;
I reached through blood and grasping feet.

[Build-up]
I rose with Eirik’s axe in hand.
The living loyal made their stand.
We broke the shutter, crossed the snow;
Behind us, roof and banner glowed.

[Final Chorus]
Blood in the Oak, black in the grain,
Drying in channels no hand can plane.
Blood in the Oak where our oath had stood,
The sacred board became butchered wood.
Let every scar in the timber speak:
The strong betrayed the trusting, not the weak.

[Outro]
[The guitars end in a jagged unison; only fire and one low drum remain.]

We crossed the gate with seven alive.
Behind us, the dark-oak rafters burned.
