March of the Jötunn by Niviane Lyrics
Without warning a chilling wind begins to bellow
In the distance an ancient power approaches from the north
Frost giants awakened from centuries' slumber
Overcome with an insatiable thirst and unending hunger
Their roars weaken the hearts of men
With a deafening echo
Brave souls tremble on shaky ground
And soon their fear takes control
Looming shadows stretch across frozen plains
Bitter winds sting as the skies change to grey
Fallen heroes frost-bitten and battle-worn
In their wake, the march of the Jötunn
Arctic tundra once our home painted dark crimson
A wasteland, icy burial ground for our fallen kinsmen
Their roars weaken the hearts of men
With a deafening echo
Brave souls tremble on shaky ground
And soon their fear takes control
Looming shadows stretch across frozen plains
Bitter winds sting as the skies change to grey
Fallen heroes frost-bitten and battle-worn
In their wake, the march of the Jötunn
Looming shadows stretch across frozen plains
Bitter winds sting as the skies change to grey
Fallen heroes frost-bitten and battle-worn
In their wake, the march of the Jötunn
In the distance an ancient power approaches from the north
Frost giants awakened from centuries' slumber
Overcome with an insatiable thirst and unending hunger
Their roars weaken the hearts of men
With a deafening echo
Brave souls tremble on shaky ground
And soon their fear takes control
Looming shadows stretch across frozen plains
Bitter winds sting as the skies change to grey
Fallen heroes frost-bitten and battle-worn
In their wake, the march of the Jötunn
Arctic tundra once our home painted dark crimson
A wasteland, icy burial ground for our fallen kinsmen
Their roars weaken the hearts of men
With a deafening echo
Brave souls tremble on shaky ground
And soon their fear takes control
Looming shadows stretch across frozen plains
Bitter winds sting as the skies change to grey
Fallen heroes frost-bitten and battle-worn
In their wake, the march of the Jötunn
Looming shadows stretch across frozen plains
Bitter winds sting as the skies change to grey
Fallen heroes frost-bitten and battle-worn
In their wake, the march of the Jötunn