Up there on the mountain, above all fire,   the fields down there and the ravine below   Where the elements feast in reckless desire      A raven is seated   Where the sun cannot reach,   only teriffic storms prevail   In a thunderin' havoc they ruthlessly roar      My heart it beats the pulse of ancient times   The countless rythem, the rattling stones   My weapon cleanse the filth of all bones      Tender are the havens   wich remain on the open plains   The shadow crawls   upon the resort of the remnaints   Even toward the hills lie shattered shields      The winter it hunts all their hearts in fear   And the river drifts with the resolution of thunder      Infernal are the storms in wich our shelter stand   Their strongest grip of fear, and our shelter tear      Up there on the mountain, above all fire,   the fields down there and the ravine below   He beholds a kingdom of grace, savage yet fair