*(Verse 1 – The Revival)* In the lands where the fjords meet the frost and the fire, A flame long thought dead has rekindled its pyre. Not bound by one book, nor a pope, nor a creed, Heathenry rises, wild, living, and free. Ásatrú calls us, Germanic kin’s way, To honor the gods of the old northern day. No dogma divides us, no singular throne— Each hearth holds its truth, yet the roots remain strong. *(Chorus)* A gift for a gift, in the web we are bound, Reciprocity rings where the holy fires sound. Gods, ancestors, spirits—alive in the land, We walk with the Norns, yet we shape our own hand. Honor and courage, through storm and through night, Reputation outlives us in memory’s light! *(Verse 2 – The Gods Are Real)* Odin rides seeking, with ravens and spear, Wisdom through sacrifice, knowledge through fear. Thor stands unyielding, Mjölnir held high, Thunder and protector beneath northern sky. Freyja rides golden, with cats and with war, Love, seiðr, and beauty—her gifts evermore. Tyr gives his hand for the bonds of the just, Loki brings chaos that breaks what must rust. Some see them as persons, some forces of fate, Archetypes burning—yet living, not late. *(Verse 3 – Blót and Sumbel)* We raise up the horn in the glow of the blót, Mead, bread, and poetry offered by rote. “Wassail!” we thunder in sumbel’s bright ring, Oaths sworn, tales spoken, and boasts that we bring. No groveling sinner, no kneeling in shame— We stand eye-to-eye with the gods we acclaim. Handmade and heartfelt, the gifts that we give, Forge bonds between Midgard and where High Ones live. *(Verse 4 – Honor and the Ancestors)* Reputation is immortality, carved in the stone, Hávamál whispers what deeds we have sown. Keep your word sacred, show courage and might, Hospitality warms the long winter’s night. Self-reliance, loyalty, family’s flame— These are the virtues that carry your name. At altars we honor the Disir and kin, The dead walk beside us, their blood sings within. *(Verse 5 – Fate, Nature, and Wights)* Three Norns are weaving—Urðr, Verðandi, Skuld, Past, present, and future in fate’s tangled hold. You may not command every thread in the loom, But how you shall meet it is yours to assume. The world is alive—landvættir and elves, Dwarves in their mountains, the jötnar themselves. Forests and rivers, the mountains that stand, Animals, seasons—all touched by spirit’s hand. *(Verse 6 – Ragnarök and Renewal)* Ragnarök comes with the wolf and the fire, Gods march to doom with their heads held still higher. Not final destruction, but cycle and change, Death births the new world—rearranged, rearranged. Bravery matters when all hope seems lost, Face down the twilight, no matter the cost. *(Verse 7 – The Sources and Ways)* We drink from the Eddas, the sagas of old, Poetic and Prose—Snorri’s wisdom retold. Archaeology, folktales, the fragments we find, Reconstruction and eclectics, each path intertwined. Some weave in the witchcraft or druidic art, Others stay rooted in history’s heart. *(Bridge – The Great Divide)* Folkist and Universalist argue the blood, Yet many cry clearly: all hearts may be good. The Troth and kin open the halls to the call— Norse symbols for all who respect them, one and all. Racists who steal them find no welcome here, The hammer crushes hate, crystal clear. *(Verse 8 – Symbols and Seasons)* Mjölnir we wear, Yggdrasil stands tall, Runes whisper secrets—some ancient, some called. Valknut and ravens mark Odin’s own path, We carve them in wood, wear them proud, feel their wrath. Yule fires burning when nights are their longest, Midsummer dances when daylight is strongest. Winternights, Þorrablót—seasonal tide, We honor the turning where old gods abide. *(Final Chorus – The Worldview)* The cosmos is living, interconnected and vast, Gods, wights, and ancestors—present, not past. No sin-obsessed prison, no heaven to earn, Just meaningful living and lessons we learn. Courage in hardship, responsibility’s weight, Community sacred, and joy in our fate. Relationship, honor, reciprocity’s call— This is the Heathen way, standing proud, standing tall. *(Outro – Spoken over fading drum and horn)* May your deeds echo long when the pyre is lit, May the gods know your name, and the ancestors sit At your side when the final ship sails from the shore. Hail the Aesir. Hail the Vanir. Hail evermore. **Skål.**
