We hold the rivers of the eastern trail
Deep in the land of the Kraag

Following the wind in our sails
And the rythm of the oars
No shelter in this hostile land, constantly on guard
Ready to fight and defend our ship to bitter end

We came under attack
I received a deadly wound
A spear was forced into my back
But yet I still fought on

Now I lie on the river bank
A long long way from home
Life is pouring out of me
Soon I will be gone

I tilt my head, to the side
And think of those back home
I see the river rushing by
As the blood runs from my wound

Here I lie, on red sand
I will not make it home
I clench my sword in my hand
Say farewell to those I know

When I am dead, lay me in a mound
And place my weapons by my side
For the journey to the hall up high
Raise a stone for all to see

With Runes carved to my memory
To my memory!



-The Memory Dirge of Aman Amarth