Fates now faded from a twilight time When heathen hearts whitened and waned. Told in tongues in riddles and in rhymes Treading in times when runes did reign.
Winds do whisper of fame and fortune. The stone is standing for the pagan pride. For the bonds of blood the widow wept. He kindred kept her tears in tide.
During the sacred tunes There is steel to the stone. Raised in the age of runes Oh memorial throne.
Grand the granite carved and cut The mourner's monument of stone by steel. In sinuous serpents from a mason's mind The fortunate find what the runes reveal.
Read the red and taste the tales Hearken the hammers beating blows Solemnly singing from the yesteryears Of tales and tears and a widow's woe
During the sacred tunes There is steel to the stone. Raised in the age of runes Oh memorial throne.