Из альбома: A Wolf in Hallowed Places
Die, Bredi!
Taste my sword!
Die, Bredi!
Taste my sword!
Now!
Soon was he out of my sight
And naught more I wot of him
Soon was he out of my sight
And naught more I wot of him
"Bredi has been slain!"
"Men should call that snow-drift Bredi's Drift from henceforth"