BAD DECISIONS UNDER BLACK FLAGS: AFTER THE ALE DRIES

folk metal, cinematic rock, Viking metal

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[Pre-Chorus]
We weren't chosen.
We weren't clean.
Just stubborn fools chasing impossible dreams.

[Chorus]
Bad decisions under black flags,
Boots in the mud and gold in our packs.
Kings may judge and dragons rise,
We'll laugh in the storm 'til the daylight dies.
Raise 'em high for the scars we hide,
For the ones still standing by our side.
No saints beneath these northern skies—
We'll ride together after the ale dries.

[Verse 2]
A fallen knight with a rusted blade,
Still carrying debts that courage paid.
A barbarian betting his last silver coin,
On drinking with giants before the charge joined.
The healer swore like a dockside crew,
Kept stitching us up as the arrows flew.
Every oath was cracked and bent,
But none of us broke when the darkness went.

[Pre-Chorus]
We weren't noble.
We weren't wise.
Just reckless hearts with fire in our eyes.

[Chorus]
Bad decisions under black flags,
Boots in the mud and gold in our packs.
Monsters howled and empires lied,
We carved our names where legends died.
Raise 'em high for the scars we hide,
For the ones still standing by our side.
No saints beneath these northern skies—
We'll ride together after the ale dries.

[Bridge]
So here's to the empty chairs,
To the ghosts still climbing tavern stairs.
To promises kept through blood and rain,
To those we'd follow down the road again.
If the horn sounds one more time,
If the world forgets the line,
We'll answer with a crooked grin—
"Looks like trouble. Count us in."

[Final Chorus]
Bad decisions under black flags,
Songs in our throats and hope in our packs.
The road goes on though kingdoms fall,
And found family outlives them all.
Raise 'em high for the tears we hide,
For every soul that chose this ride.
No saints beneath these northern skies—
But stubborn hearts that never die.

[Outro]
When the fire burns low and the stories rise,
When laughter fades and memory sighs,
Ask us if we'd choose this life...
We'll lift our cups and answer,
"Aye."
Even after the ale dries.

2328/7500

[Verse 1] Raise your mugs to maps half-burned, To bridges crossed and lessons never learned. Wolf at our heels and ravens in the sky, We chased the rumors no sane soul would try. A ranger tracked the frozen pass, A rogue talked fast and stole the glass. The witch just grinned and rolled the dice, Said, "Fate ain't fair, but it'll suffice." [Pre-Chorus] We weren't chosen. We weren't clean. Just stubborn fools chasing impossible dreams. [Chorus] Bad decisions under black flags, Boots in the mud and gold in our packs. Kings may judge and dragons rise, We'll laugh in the storm 'til the daylight dies. Raise 'em high for the scars we hide, For the ones still standing by our side. No saints beneath these northern skies— We'll ride together after the ale dries. [Verse 2] A fallen knight with a rusted blade, Still carrying debts that courage paid. A barbarian betting his last silver coin, On drinking with giants before the charge joined. The healer swore like a dockside crew, Kept stitching us up as the arrows flew. Every oath was cracked and bent, But none of us broke when the darkness went. [Pre-Chorus] We weren't noble. We weren't wise. Just reckless hearts with fire in our eyes. [Chorus] Bad decisions under black flags, Boots in the mud and gold in our packs. Monsters howled and empires lied, We carved our names where legends died. Raise 'em high for the scars we hide, For the ones still standing by our side. No saints beneath these northern skies— We'll ride together after the ale dries. [Bridge] So here's to the empty chairs, To the ghosts still climbing tavern stairs. To promises kept through blood and rain, To those we'd follow down the road again. If the horn sounds one more time, If the world forgets the line, We'll answer with a crooked grin— "Looks like trouble. Count us in." [Final Chorus] Bad decisions under black flags, Songs in our throats and hope in our packs. The road goes on though kingdoms fall, And found family outlives them all. Raise 'em high for the tears we hide, For every soul that chose this ride. No saints beneath these northern skies— But stubborn hearts that never die. [Outro] When the fire burns low and the stories rise, When laughter fades and memory sighs, Ask us if we'd choose this life... We'll lift our cups and answer, "Aye." Even after the ale dries.

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