Skål For The Fallen

Skål for the fallen,
Raise it high.
The brave never
Beg and the bold never cry.
Skål for the thunder,
Skål for the cold.
We’re young when we
Die, but the saga stays old.
Ohh, ohh, ohh.
Pour the mead heavy, let
It spill on the floor, for the brothers
That never walked back through
the door.
We carve their names
Deep in the runestone gray.
The wind learns to sing them,
They don’t fade away.
I count every winter like a coin in my
Hand, a debt to the dead
That I pay where I stand.
Skål for the fallen,
Raise it high.
The brave never
Beg and the bold never cry.
Skål for the thunder,
Skål for the cold.
We’re young when we
Die, but the saga stays old.