Brood of the Trickster - Brothers of Metal

Three are the tales that you now will be told

Three bitter memories of times, foreign and old

Three were my nightmares in which eternity swirled

And three were the children that would ruin our world

So much did the trickster despise his very own kind

In the iron woods he looked and knew what he would find

A giantess, a witch willing to carry his seed

An unholy union was fulfilled, but to where would it lead?

One would rule the oceans where humans swim and get their fish

One would be strapped to a mountain with a final burning wish

And one would be thrown to a throne most of us will see

They were prisoners of their time, by Ragnarök set free