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• Artiste: Falconer
• Titre: Boiling Led
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INCORRECT: avant la mauvaise ligne
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Early Morning It's cold and the snow is whirling Like a warning, a promising fate But the king rests in peace on his sled Hooves are pounding So many thoughts in his head All around him What if he knows He will never again go to bed Find him Run for your life Only promise you'll find him Throw him in boiling led Nail down the traitor Cross over the ice Through the wind blows and the hate grows Your thoughts will suffice On the runner Steering the sled and the mare The assassin, full of suspense With the king resting under the hide Like a gunner Hiding the axe in his coat Our dunner, planning the deed And he knows he must follow his guide One hit, One slash, one single blow. The king, The pain, the blood, the snow. Hooves are pounding So many thoughts in their heads Out to find him, sure to succeed For their king and their leader is dead.