Called by a winter chant
Summon the ancient kings
A nameless fetid sin
Lies in the chilly air

I watch the gods of chaos
On their way through northern lands
The wind was freezing cold
And the sky was ruled by flames

A winter storm filled my wings
And I flew aloft to follow them
I rode the wind through the night
And knew that I was the chosen

A winter chant… grips for my soul

The seven kings of the new aeon
Gathered in this pagan land
I followed their speechless calls
I was their disciple and heir

A winter chant… grips for my soul

("Nifelheim")