[Intro] (Fire crackling. A low, rhythmic throat chant begins as a heavy iron anvil rings twice. A deep war horn [Blowing of the Gjallarhorn style] echoes over a pulsing sub-bass growl) (Old Norse / Norsk Chant - Low, reverberating voice) Eldur og járn... Sál í stál. (Fire and iron... Soul in steel.) Skuldkall... Race The Omen. [Verse 1] Step into the forge where the sparks ignite, Blowing bellows in the middle of the longest night. hammer hitting iron with a deafening crack, No turning back when the fire turns black. They talk about heat, but they never felt the coal, Tempering the blade till it burns in the soul. Not a highway track, this is ritual ground, Earth shaking deep when the horn makes a sound. Dark-folk rhythm with an industrial spine, Crossing past the boundary of the mortal line. Forged in the flame, let the anvil sing, Bow to no crown, pay no tribute to a king. [Chorus] (Pounding war drums slam in with heavy sub-bass drops and layered multi-vocal chant) (Lead + Chanted backing) Eldur og járn! (Fire and iron!) Forged in the flame, standing straight through the storm! Stål og blóð! (Steel and blood!) Race The Omen when the old gods call! We don't bend, we don't break for the trade, Every single mile is a weapon we made! Ingen frykt, ingen nåde! (No fear, no mercy!) [Verse 2] Shield-wall energy, heavy-metal weight, Writing our runes on the pillars of fate. You can hear the Skáld singing through the smoke and ash, Every drum strike hitting like a thunderbolt crash. Brought the ancient power to the modern-day grid, Taking back the crown that the old shadows hid. Sparks flying high like a northern light flare, Pure adrenaline cutting through the frozen air. Iron in the blood and the fire in the lungs, Speaking ancient truth with modern-day tongues. [Bridge] (The beat drops out. Only distant fire crackles, thunder, and a resonant anvil ring remain. Low Norwegian vocal breakdown) (Norsk Spoken / Chanted - Heavy, rhythmic) Gjennom elden skal vi gå. (Through the fire we shall go.) Ingen kjeder kan holde oss nå. (No chains can hold us now.) (Rhythmic throat chant builds in speed: 1... 2... 3... 4...) Høyere... Hardere... OMEN! (Higher... Harder... OMEN!) (MASSIVE INDUSTRIAL / WAR DRUM DROP) [Chorus] Eldur og járn! (Fire and iron!) Forged in the flame, standing straight through the storm! Stål og blóð! (Steel and blood!) Race The Omen when the old gods call! We don't bend, we don't break for the trade, Every single mile is a weapon we made! Ingen frykt, ingen nåde! (No fear, no mercy!) [Outro] (Sub-bass slowly dies out into ringing anvil tones and ambient wind over embers) Smiður í eldi... (Smith in the fire...) Sál í stál. (Soul in steel.) Race The Omen. Forged in Eldr.
