Called by a winter chant Summon the ancient kings A nameless fetid sin Lies in the chilly air I watch the gods of chaos On their way through northern lands The wind was freezing cold And the sky was ruled by flames A winter storm filled my wings And I flew aloft to follow them I rode the wind through the night And knew that I was the chosen A winter chant... grips for my soul The seven kings of the new aeon Gathered in this pagan land I followed their speechless calls I was their disciple and heir A winter chant... grips for my soul ("Nifelheim")