Из альбома: Amortean
Oh black raven, my raven
What have you foreseen
Dark tidings and woe
Rich pickings for death
Let the gods wipe my tears
With this falling rain
Let this lake be my graveside
And woods the golden hall
Our braves long since fallen
With the tides of the war
Our words no more spoken
I'm ready to fall
Bare message, my raven
To gods I long to see
Blackbird of the chosen
Bare this prayer for me
Oh black raven, my raven
Bare message for me
Come closer the foe
And take my last breath
Blackbird of the chosen
Bare this prayer for me