Blueberryhill - House of Sleep

The wind is rising the moon is cold
Unveils the future foretold
When looming silence embrace the ground
Spirits of vengeance alive

To die

Carry me to the house of sleep
Lay me down where the virgins weep
Cry my name to the Gods of wind
At the hall where the brave men feast

Now flies the banner and winds are high
Drunken with power we cry
You see the valkyries they haunt the dead
Carry them high overhead

To cry

Into the arms of death ...