Lyrics by Grutle Kjellson 1996 A war ruled in ancient times Between the holy races, the vanirs and the Ases When peace came, the deities united >From a bowl filled with spit rose Kvasir "Wise he becomes, he drinks the holy mead, the blood of Kvasir, but not he who drinks from the spilled mead that dripped from the falcon" Kvasir the father of poets by dwarfhands he died >From the blood of Kvasir they made the meads of poets, the holy drink Fjalar and Galar once murdered Gilling the Giant, the father of Suttung Enraged, Suttung demanded justice to be fulfilled The blood of Kvasir became the mead of Suttung Grimne flew out from Valhalla In the shape of the falcon To the Home of Giants and to Nitberg Bauge was deceived, and Gunnlod betrayed Out from Nitberg the falcon flew Finally Kvasir should return to Asgard But, when the mead disappeared, Suttung became furious Out, in the shape of the eagle he followed Sadly, Grimne had to spill from his valuable treasure Which led to the making of the false poets The falcon flew home to his domains And Sutting flew into the flames of Tjalve Music by Ivar Bjrnson & Grutle Kjellson 1996