Crom - Cavalera Conspiracy

Heavy the crown

Weakened and lost

Secret of steel

Fear he can’t feel

Born… from the age

Sworn… to the blade

Sit upon the mountain top

Judging all that’s mortal

Howling thunder from the east

Thrust the sword, not man nor beast

Crom…

Life and death — the same…

Conquering barbarian tribes

Sends you to your doom!

Under the sun…

Nowhere to run…

No one to thrust…

You’re alone…

Life+death

The same

Life+death

The same…

What do I know of cultured ways, the gilt, the craft and the life?

I, who was born in a naked land and bred in the open sky.

The subtle tongue,

the sophist guile, they fail when the broadswords sing.

Rush in and die,

dogs — I was a man before I was a king

Gleaming shell of an outworn lie;

fable of right divine — You gained your

crowns by heritage, but blood was the price of mine.

The throne that I won by

blood and sweat by crom.

I will not sell for promise of valleys filled with

gold.

Or threat of the halls of hell!