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Wyrd
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Cold Son of the Wind
How chill is morning, how cold its melody. On a season of withering, when time stands still I listened and the wind spoke to me, I heard the woods sing to me.
Reciting poems and myths, from earliest of ages Shadow of a crooked rowan tree, looks more like a bear in sleep Season fades along with its leaves, until one plough day earth covers earth
Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com Cold, son of the wind, freeze the winter willows Chill the birch chunks, Cold, son of the wind
I listened and the rain whispered to me, I heard the streams murmur my name.
Shared their timeless wisdom, a cruel tale of nature unveiled Until one plough day earth covers earth
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