Down The Slopes Of Death - Amon Amarth

Down the slopes of death he rides

The eight hooves pound like drums

Darkness reigns the crumbling sky

Invasion has begun

Fields of flames greets his eye

He smells the fear and pain

Of dying men in agony

It can drive a man insane

All enemies flee his spear

No bow nor axe do harm

Allfather rides out on fields of fear

When Heimdal sounds the alarm

But on the field waits his fate

Foretold in ancient times

A beast with sharp yellow teeth

And hateful burning eyes

Today he’ll draw his final breath

The wisest God of all

His son will avenge his death

Iormundr’s brother will fall

He knows now what is to come

No use to try and run

What is to be, let it be done!

What is to be, let it be done!

Today he’ll draw his final breath

The wisest God of all

His son will avenge his death

Iormundr’s brother will fall

Down the slopes of death he rides

The eight hooves pound like drums

Darkness reigns the crumbling sky

Invasion has begun

Down the slopes of death he rides

The eight hooves pound like drums

Darkness reigns the crumbling sky

No more is the sun