[Intro][Fast tom gallop with tremolo guitars and jaw harp accents.]

[Verse 1 - Female Lead Valkyrie]
Snow over Midgard, red at the seam,
Bootprints vanish where the dead men dream.
Ash on the rafters, smoke in the grain,
Dogs at the doorway with their muzzles in rain.
A shield on a sled, a helm in a ditch,
A mother by the millstone with a knife-stiff stitch.
We rode above the valley, twelve wings wide,
Choosing who would vanish from the broken side.

[Pre-Chorus]
The horn did not mourn, it measured the field,
The raven did not cry, it watched what would yield.

[Chorus]
Snow over Midgard, cover the cries,
White on the roofs and red in the eyes.
Snow over Midgard, cold on the shield,
We take the dead, but we leave the field.
High goes the hero, low goes the land,
Frost takes the footprint from his hand.

[Verse 2 - Female Lead Valkyrie]
A boy wore his father’s belt too low,
Dragging the buckle through the dirty snow.
A bride tore linen from her wedding chest,
Binding a wound in a stranger’s breast.
The young Valkyrie leaned from her horse of grey,
Heard one dead man whisper, “Not today.”
But the runes on his ribs gave a hard blue glow,
And the old law answered, “He must go.”

[Pre-Chorus]
The horn did not mourn, it measured the field,
The raven did not cry, it watched what would yield.

[Chorus]
Snow over Midgard, cover the cries,
White on the roofs and red in the eyes.
Snow over Midgard, cold on the shield,
We take the dead, but we leave the field.
High goes the hero, low goes the land,
Frost takes the footprint from his hand.

[Drum Break][Toms and frame drums trade uneven battlefield rhythms.]

[Bridge - Female Lead]
If I lift him, his name will be sung,
If I leave him, his child stays young.
If I lift him, the feast will roar,
If I leave him, who wins the war?

[Bridge 2]
A spear in the fog, a law in my throat,
A raven-black feather stuck to my coat.

[Final Chorus]
Snow over Midgard, cover the cries,
White on the roofs and red in the eyes.
Snow over Midgard, cold on the shield,
We take the dead, but we leave the field.
High goes the hero, low goes the land,
Frost takes the footprint from his hand.

[Choir Coda]
Snow over Midgard, silent and wide,
Buries the price of the chosen side.

[Outro][Gallop riff stops on a dry drum hit.]