Из альбома: A Wolf in Hallowed Places

Die, Bredi!
Taste my sword!
Die, Bredi!
Taste my sword!
Now!

Soon was he out of my sight
And naught more I wot of him
Soon was he out of my sight
And naught more I wot of him

"Bredi has been slain!"

"Men should call that snow-drift Bredi's Drift from henceforth"

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