There you go. I hope I have no typos in there.
Field of Sorrow
The memory lingers on of the arrival of dawn.
They saw the beacon aflame,
Burning with sorrow for the lives that would be lost.
And the troops went ashore,
Sounds of drums filled the air.
Towards the city they marched.
Called all the young ones, called the old.
Summoned the people to stand up and be bold.
Fight a superior force for high society.
Sheltered behind the walls,
Holding the riches that forever could be lost.
Outside the city gates
The peasant army fights on
Towards their imminent doom.
Cross the Field of Sorrow children’s soul still cry
As an echo from the blackened day.
Cross the Field of Sorrow
There are whispers and sighs
From burning anguish and dismay.
From the protection of walls
Beheld the blood stained plains
Reeking of sacrifice’s shame.
Children and cripples of the battle that was lost.
Trembling hands open the gates
For the extortion of fire,
As they had nowhere to hide.
Fill up the barrels and chests with all your gold.
Build me a throne to rest upon.
Fear not the fate of the fallen,
Hear not the cries of the crows.
And so they sailed off with the gold.
In the midst of the sea
They were caught by a storm.
Both booty and crew’s lying deep.
Man of the Hour
Heading into the battle
Against inferior foe.
Early morning’s sea lies so silent and clear.
Let them feel a broadside
From our three decker of pride.
Let the enemy fleet shatter for the wind.
The Man of the Hour
In a challenging game,
He rose to power
By his family name.
The Man of the Hour
In the lion’s den,
Wielding his power
While dooming his men.
With gun ports open
And without striking sail
He turned the ship around to chase the Danes away.
The wind made the ship heel
Causing panic aboard.
Cannons, men and cargo they all broke astray.
Lower decks were flooded,
Chaos and agony.
The morning air was filled with an aria of cries.
Crewmen jumped the rail now
Choosing ice before the fire.
Down from powder deck they saw the smoke arise.
Danes in confusion
Surprisingly greet
The self termination
Of the Swedish fleet.
Without firing a round
On the stronger foe
They’re victory bound
As “The Crown” went below.
A Beggar Hero
Paved was his road with the golden bricks
To the glory and the fame.
Yesterday’s hero sits quiet and low.
Promises of future lies shattered like broken glass.
Lonely and crippled roaming in
Gutters like a shadow of his past.
Reminiscing along nostalgia’s lane.
Telling the children stories is his only joy.
Shyly sneaking through crowds
Almost unnoticed passing by.
Prince of misfortunate fate is he.
Enduring poverty’s yoke
With a bitter sigh.
A Beggar Hero he is.
Once a brave captain now but a
Fallen knight of misery and pain.
Starving through days and freezing through nights.
Seeing the young soldiers walk by with a mocking smile.
Vargaskall
Genom vättars djupa skogar
Over myrars fridfulla ensamhet
Bränner fruktans flamma fram.
Genom månbelysta dälder
Över bergets rygg mott ett okänt mål
Jagad ulv nu skyndar fram.
Kavlen går i socknarna
Nu blir det Vargaskall.
Greppa spjut och fatta mod
I drev mot ulvens fall.
Gryningstimma, tung utav hat.
Ringa in och rota ut.
Folkets fasa skall ej mera stryka fram
Genom äng, genom myr och skog
I människoland,
In i mörkret trygghet sluter
Sina skygga barn utav enslig kull
Ifrän jaktens gällä larm.
Vitt revir nu sakta tynar.
Utav människans hand uti vildmarksland.
Sveper ödets svarta arm.
Kämpa tappert, kämpa idogt.
Känn nu eldens glöd i ditt vildmarksland
Visa drevet ulvars mod.
Skymningstimma, tung utav blod.
Ringat in och rotat ut.
Ulvars fasa skall för alltid stryka fram
Genom äng, genom myroch skog
I Vargaland.
Carnival of Disgust
Behind the veil of destiny
The path might turn in sudden twists of irony.
Night turns to day, dark turns to light.
End to the beginning on the other side of right.
Wielder of steel, tier of ropes.
The hooded slayer without shame and without hope.
Sentenced to death but slipped away
To live the role of a hangman at display.
Come see the play of wicked irony.
Join the crowd of hunger
For the joy of the Carnival of Disgust.
Lonely he walks, outcast of shame.
Fearful and spat on yet respected for his name.
Marked by the blade to be known by sight
As a walking dead man for a crime pitch black as night.
Mountain Men
Taxes raised by the union king,
A blockade in his back for the days of the wars.
- No importation and no exportation is making the nation bleed.
Yet the bailiffs demand their gold,
The uprising is growing for every day.
- The threatening, the torture, the killing of men
Is a plague that must now come to end, once and for all.
Mountain Men
Hear the call now!
Fight tyranny’s cold hand.
Mountain Men
From the harsh land!
Cast of your chains and the burning shackles.
Fortresses they took one by one.
With success came support from the highborn class.
- We grant you aid to dethrone our king for financial prosperity.
The crown forced to negotiate,
So they called for a council of all for estates-
- Now we elect you captain of the realm,
So pull back your forces and return home.
Old and worn, to be forgotten.
Misled to the shade of the stage
But with a plan, he will return.
Halfway to the council of the realm,
Ambushed by rivals in disguise he met his demise.
By the blade of greed he fell down.
Mountain Men
Heard the call and
Fought tyranny’s cold hand.
Mountain Men
From the harsh land
Cast their chains and the burning shackles.
The King was dethroned and fled head over heels
And he ended his life in disgrace,
In piracy.
Viddernas man
Fjärrän kyrka ljuder dovt
Ut över vida slätter
Där en ensam vandrare gär.
Varken välbärgad eller dräng
´ Friheten är hans broder,
Skogens famn hans tryggaste säng.
Under tung och grämulen sky
Vandrar tiggaren så rastlöst fram.
Vandra på, du Viddernas man
Mot nya äventyr.
Väders makters härjad hy
Vittnar om livets prövning
Och ett hjärta av renaste guld.
För hans gävor som skogen gav
Får han mat och nya hosor
Innan vägen så kallar igen.
Pale Light of Silver Moon
Dweller of the Sombre Lanes,
Crow of the gutter and grime.
Striving through the dark for gain,
Up to the gallows you climb.
Through your most stagnant life
The rusty blade leads the way.
Rags and a muddy cloak
Is but your sole array.
Among the hawking beggars,
Among the thieves.
Pale Light of Silver Moon
Cast your light upon wicked plans.
To anthems of virtuous’ ruin
The villain and the sinner, they dance.
Hailing from penury’s womb,
Sprung from the bower of sin.
Where fate held nothing but gloom
And future wore a taunting grin.
Find the scavenger’s demise
By the trail of the poverty.
Look for the vulture eyes
On the fair of misery.
Boiling Led
Early Morning
It’s cold and the snow is whirling
Like a warning, a promising fate
But the king rests in peace on his sled
Hooves are pounding
So many thoughts in his head
All around him
What if he knows
He will never again go to bed
Find him
Run for your life
Only promise you’ll find him
Throw him in boiling led
Nail down the traitor
Cross over the ice
Through the wind blows and the hate grows
Your thoughts will suffice
On the runner
Steering the sled and the mare
The assassin, full of suspense
With the king resting under the hide
Like a gunner
Hiding the axe in his coat
Our dunner, planning the deed
And he knows he must follow his guide
One hit,
One slash, one single blow.
The king,
The pain, the blood, the snow.
Hooves are pounding
So many thoughts in their heads
Out to find him, sure to succeed
For their king and their leader is dead.
Dark Ages
Years of famine and years of sigh
Reaps our land that fell from crest.
Creatures, serfs and men hanged high
Yet no remedy.
What will ever please our Gods?
Gather the chiefs and sages.
What will save the tomorrow
From these Dark Ages.
Slay and sacrifice our king,
Coat the statues with noble blood.
Intensify the holy smoke
With a royal lamb.
Now neither your braves, your wise nor gold
So far renowned
Will be of aid now as the doomsday call.
Now you must rise up to show the steel
Courage of your heart,
And soon you’ll raise your horn in Valhalla’s hall.
Skula, Skorpa, Skalk
En man han tjänt herr lagers gård
I sommar, vinter år för år.
Säg mig, vem sörjer nu för dig?
För slit och släp under himmel grå
Han blott sitt bröd som löning får.
Säg mig, vem sörjer nu för dig?
Så kommer hastigt budet in:
- Vår herre lägrar dotra din!
Säg mig, vem sörjer nu för dig?
Och trällen nu genom dörren steg,
Han lämna plogen vid årkerns teg.
Säg mig, vem sörjer nu för dig?
- Herr lager hör nu mina ord,
Min doter till din hora gjord.
Säg mig, vem sörjer nu för dig?
Och lager sa i vredesmod:
- Du värnar ej om ditt trälablod.
Säg mig, vem sörjer nu för dig?
Varken öl eller vin dig ämnat,
Ej heller ägorätt
Dock Skula, Skorpa, Skalk.
Träl visste ej ett ord utav
Förrns strupen hans var skuren av.
Säg mig, vem sörjer nu för dig?
- Det här är nog för bot idag
Och dotra tar jag vid behag.
Säg mig, vem sörjer nu för dig?
- Kom jag ska visa dig min rätt
Att trösta dej på valfritt sätt.
Säg mig, vem sörjer nu för dig?
”O tack!” Han sa med gråtmild röst
Och stötte kniven uti hans bröst.
- Säg mig, vem sörjer nu för dig?
Dreams and Pyres
It’s the darkened years,
Superstition’s flying high.
There is pain, there is fear
In the poverty’s sigh.
Preachers on a frightening spree,
Of demons and hell’s fire.
Warnings of the devil’s decree
In all sinful desires.
A boy have just arrived,
An orphan he’s become
From adultery and incest and witchery.
To the seething alleys
Of quarrels and discord,
A storm cloud has finally gathered.
Discussions long into the night,
About the dark one’s diabolical scheme.
Children they listen and they dream
Well-fed nightmares of a similar theme.
Imaginations out of control.
For each morning they tell more and more.
- Summon the new boy for a watch
He have seen the signs of evil before.
- There is the devil’s bride,
Rode on the goat astride.
God save us from Satan’s firm hand!
There is the torture witch,
Poked us with glowing sticks.
God save us from Satan’s allies!
- In the name of our Lord I’m harmless.
- Confess your sins to our Christ!
- I can’t confess to what children dream.
Prejudiced tongues has twisted
Their minds before your eyes.
- Silence, you whore of the dark one,
Save your soul and repent what you’ve done!
Accuse the poor
And get a tap on the head.
- You truly are a blessed child,
She will burn in iron upon the stake.
Accuse the countess
And get a slap into the face.
- You aught to know a noble’s rang,
She’s too venerable for you poor fool.
- Speed up the pace.
Chanting the praise
Ever higher.
Hysteric ball:
- Sentence them all
To the fire!
One day the boy confessed his lies.
- I know nothing about
The witches ways.
One after one they all came forth.
- Rather informers than burn
At the end of the day.
- There is the wicked tongue,
From indolence it sprung.
God save us from sinister minds!
There is the fiendish flock,
All limbs are chained and locked.
God save us from sinister minds!
There is the serpent’s fang,
From where the evil sprang.
God save him from the dark of hell!
There is a boy aflame
Ending his fancied game.
God save him from Satan’s demons!
Vi Sålde Våra Hemman
Vi Sålde Våra Hemman och gav oss sedan ut,
Som fägelen bortflyger, när sommaren tar slut.
Han kommer en gång åter när våren skrider fram,
Men vi få aldrig skåda vårt kära fosterland.
Och när vi kommo till den Liverpoolska hamn
Begynte ångerns tårar så stritt att bryta fram.
Det blev en hjärtans sveda i bröstet på var och en.
Man talar blott om Sverige och om sitt förra hem.
Vi packades tillsammans uti ett osunt kvav.
Det var för osss att skåda liksom en öppen grav.
Och födan som vi fraktat ifrån vår svenska jord
Den blev oss nu förbjuden att taga med ombord.
Och när vi hade seglat en vecka eller två,
Ett mörker däcket höljde och bredde sig därpå.
Ej se varann vi kunde, knappt andas eller gå.
Det var en gruvlig plåga för stora och för små.
Nu blir en ömklig hunger, med sorg och grät och gny.
En jämmer som sig tränger till himlens höga sky.
Och döden gruvligt härjar bland mänskorna ombord.
Man ser de döda kastas i havets vilda flod.
