[Style: Starts slow and salt-bitten, like a funeral procession across grey water, builds to a defiant, roaring storm-sprint in the final minutes.] [Tagelharpa drenched in reverb, guitars tuned low enough to rattle ribs.] [Intro – Waves, creaking timbers, wind through torn sails] (Soft gang chant, almost a whisper) Row… Row… Row for the ghosts who cannot row… [Verse 1 – Slow, mournful, oars beating time] Thirty-nine dragons limp through the mist One proud keel missing from the line The sea that took our brother’s blood Now licks the splinters from our minds Our shields are cracked, our beards are grey With salt and smoke and funeral spray [Chorus – Heavy, rising] SALT FOR THE WOUNDS! SALT FOR THE WOUNDS! THE SEA REMEMBERS EVERY NAME WE LOST! SALT FOR THE WOUNDS! SALT FOR THE WOUNDS! WE CARRY VICTORY AT HARALD’S COST! ROW, YOU BASTARDS, ROW! THE DEAD ARE WATCHING FROM THE FOAM! SALT FOR THE WOUNDS! AND WE ROW HOME! [Verse 2 – Tempo lifts, voices harden] The raven banner hangs in rags Still dripping red from foreign dead We sing the old songs louder now So Harald hears them where he’s led His empty rowing bench is draped In the cloak he wore the day he raged [Chorus – Louder, angrier] SALT FOR THE WOUNDS! SALT FOR THE WOUNDS! THE TIDE WILL NEVER WASH THE DEBT WE OWE! SALT FOR THE WOUNDS! SALT FOR THE WOUNDS! WE BRING THE FIRE BACK TO LET THEM KNOW! ROW, YOU BASTARDS, ROW! THE FJORDS ARE CALLING THROUGH THE STORM! SALT FOR THE WOUNDS! AND WE ROW HOME! [Bridge – Spoken over rolling toms and low horn] We swore on his broken axes: Every child born this coming winter Will bear a name that means thunder. Every hall we raise will have one empty seat At the high table, forever. And every time the horns are filled The first pour hits the ground for Harald. [Verse 3 – Full gallop, blast beats under gang roar] Let the women see the scars we wear Let the skalds sharpen their tongues like spears We sailed out wolves, we return as myths With empty hands and burning tears The gods themselves will stand aside When thirty-nine dragons kiss the tide [Final Chorus – Triumphant, sky-shattering] SALT FOR THE WOUNDS! SALT FOR THE WOUNDS! THE DEAD RIDE PROUD UPON OUR PROWS TONIGHT! SALT FOR THE WOUNDS! SALT FOR THE WOUNDS! WE BRING THE STORM BACK INTO NORTHERN LIGHT! ROW, YOU BASTARDS, ROW! THE DEAD ARE SINGING THROUGH OUR BONES! SALT FOR THE WOUNDS! SALT FOR THE WOUNDS! SALT FOR THE WOUNDS… AND WE ROW HOME! [Outro – Tagelharpa and horn duet, slowing to silence] The fjord opens like a mother’s arms Smoke rises from a hundred hearths We beach the dragons one by one And step ashore as living scars And somewhere, in the roar of waves Harald Two-Axes lifts his horn And drinks to the thirty-nine Who kept the promise And brought the thunder home.
