Gates of Hel - Týr

Barking

Here north and nether he’s bound

And here he dwell

Snarling

At passing ghosts though he guard

The gates of hel

They’re leaving like a funeral procession on the prowl

Behind the hearse of all our hope

Their coming may forebode the end of all wee once held high

Before us darkness gathers

You’ll take the high road

I’ll take the low road

Neither sand stays their striding

Nor does the dark and deep blue sea

Frontlines fell

You’ll take the high road

I’ll take the low road

Turned to stone by the sunrise

Hordes in the distance marching out

The gates of hel

Graven

Under the gathering grime

Statues forgrow

Fieldstones

Before the floodgates of time

Wayfarers flow

Their marching may grow louder than the thunder in the sky

Behind the hearse of all our hope

Our footfalls only fade into the distant future far

You’ll take the high road

I’ll take the low road

Neither sand stays their striding

Nor does the dark and deep blue sea

Frontlines fell

You’ll take the high road

I’ll take the low road

Turned to stone by the sunrise

Hordes in the distance marching out

The gates of hel

They’re leaving like a funeral procession on the prowl

Behind the hearse of all our hope

Their coming may forebode the end of all wee once held high

Before us darkness gathers

You’ll take the high road

I’ll take the low road

Neither sand stays their striding

Nor does the dark and deep blue sea

Frontlines fell

You’ll take the high road

I’ll take the low road

Turned to stone by the sunrise

Hordes in the distance marching out

The gates of hel