Borknagar

Swept in a distant dream, I am bound
As a cunning waver trapped in it's line
Facing the cold, stuck in the mould
The magma here under makes fire seems cold
And I've been down below
And I've been high above
From flaring field of fiery formations
The sub dimensions aflame
Like a havoc in black when the force turns back
The surface tears open spills blood from it's cracks
The cause of the essence sharpen the lines of dimensions
I am raised by the fields, by the highlands
The minded mountains of old
Where the river starts roaring I roam
Where the wind comes moaning I wander alone
AD NOCTUM
The course of the essence sharpen the lines