Lirieke: Finntroll. Maktens Spira.

Jag sprang med brisen.
Mot norr den eviga isen.
Jag fann en dalgang.
En massiv spricka.
Masarna visade vagen ur skyn.
Da motte jag isen.
Da fann jag hav.
En storm steg ur vagors djup.

En hemlighet om maktens spira.
Urgudar nu ristat genom mej.
Sparet in i isen gick.
Djupt mot dess frusna karna.

(Dar den stod evigt stel.
Gick en fara in med flodens strom.
Ner mot det bla jag vandra.
Isen i mina adror far dagar tio.)

Dar fanns en grotta, en faslig sal.
I grottans mitt han stod.
Som djupet kallat ur stjarnors ljus.
Krigarren maktig fran rymders sus.

Ur hans frusna hand jag tuggat.
Ett spjut fran en andlos plats.
Ett skrik ett dan fran spjutets blad.
Maktens spira med stjarnors rad.
Tusende steg mot jordens yttre.
Fran djupet jag an en gang steg.
Nu grinet ej slackas fran detta tryne.
Ett slag nu badas, snart slutfors allt.

[English translation:]

The Scepter Of Might

I ran with the wind
Northward, the perpetual ice
I found a valley
A massive gash

Seagulls guided me from the sky
Then I met the ice
Then I found the sea
A storm arose from the deep waves

A secret of the scepter of might
Ancient Gods now etched through me
The trail went into the ice
Deeply towards it's frozen core

There it stood, forever unmoving
Followed a crack and the flowing water
Down towards the blue I wandered
The ice in my veins, for ten days

There was a cave, a ghostly chamber
In the middle of the cave he stood
Which the deep has conjured from the light of stars
The mighty warrior of the void

From his frozen hand I ate
A spear from an endless place
A cry, a rumble from the blade of the spear
The spire of might with a row of stars

Thousands of steps towards the the surface
From the depths I once again arose
Now the grin of my snout will not be extinguished
A battle now beckons, soon all will be finished.