I met the old man
In the dephts of the woods
He said: I'll show thee a bit of the future
If perchance thou wilt listen
The wanderer:
"The journey it has been so long
Is it the end that we feel drawing nearer
Though we keep learning more
Nothing sseems to get any clearer"
The hunter:
"Man he must search his heart
Though he will not like waht he findeth
I can tell him no truth
That he doth not already know"
"Turn the ghostship around
Climb back into the cradle
At least to die in dignity
Surrender now or be brought home in chains
The motherspirit will conquer all
With or without thee the kingdom shall fall"
The wanderer:
"Can it be done, can the gods be awoken
Can we rewrite the tale, is the cradle not broken"
The hunter:
"Not all the future is equally clear
If may be the end that you feel drawing near
Search in your hearts
If they still hold the truth
The voice from the past is the future
The longing for the woods"
And the old man, lord of the hunters of old
Disappeared in the depths of the woods
Left me with a strange sensation
That maybe one day
Maybe one day
The wind calls
A storm from the past
Night falls
And we are longing for the woods
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