Borknagar

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