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• Artiste: Fall (The)
• Titre: Iceland
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A plate steel object was fired And I did not feel for my compatriots Hated even the core of myself Not a matter of ill-health It was fear of weakness deep in core of myself The fact attainment was out of [Mounting orations What generations Dumb populations What emulations] To be humbled in Iceland Sing of legend, sing of destruction Witness the last of the god-men Hear about Megas Jonsson Cast the runes against your own soul There is not much more time to go Work fifteen hours for the good of the soul And be humbled in Iceland Sit in the gold room Fall down flat in the Cafe Iol Without a glance from the clientele Your coffee black as well, Hair blond as hell Cast the runes against your own soul Roll up for the underpants show And be humbled in Iceland And the spawn of the volcano Is thick and impatient Like the people around it. See a green goblin redhead, redhead Make a grab for the book of prayers. Do anything for a bit of attention Get humbled in Iceland What the goddamn fuck is it? That played the pipes of aluminum A Memorex for the Krakens That induces this rough text And casts the runes against the self-soul And humbles in Iceland