The mountain crown, the mountain spirit farthest North She is bound in the guise of a Horned Owl Wife of the One eyed Åme The queen of mist in the shadows dance Rises high above the fertile plain Of past of present, of memory and of man She's lurking the corner of dawn Ancient, ever being, never ceasing Of seven oak forests grown, of seven rotted down Still proud she stand Shape and torn, as dew was gone A monument, a bewitching hand Bound sacrifice, great eternal youth In stillness withdrawn, dreamless for evermore Arose as she's drawn A gateway to where our worlds meet and manifest A portal to where our worlds collide Omma... Omma... Omma... Omma... Omma... Omma... Omma... Omma... Across the meadows, a veil of mist As above the dangerous waters She's wandering, cold and clear Reaches out and embrace in despair and disgrace As the tears of Wetur come Crushing tear, ruin down The steep, red wall, the lair of the mountain King Shiver, beware... And so they went the mountain seven times around Thus destiny be told, their fate be carued Omma... Omma... Omma... Omma... Omma... Omma... Omma... Omma... A gateway to where our worlds meet and manifest A portal to where our worlds collide