Under the seven mountains of the furthest North,
In the womb of ice, the deepest core

Rest in peace my dear old friend,
Till the day they will repent,
By the profane power of the sleeping one,
Let the final [bad word] 
The seed of tar was sown in ice,
Sprout and grew through deepest white,
Kiss of grace from the fallen king,
Bend a rose for the unforgiven

Now it's time to awaken the fallen one,
The beast inside, the sleeping son,
We are only waiting for the day when the blood must stain the sea

Now it's time for the frozen one,
To face the cries from [bad word] ..
And those haunting dreams... Too real to me