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Gyddigg - Possessed By The Fury of Wod


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Upon the hills that cross the edge of all these wind-loamed moors the ghosts of villages scab the grass beneath the dirt no longer in deep woods I climb a path once thick with trees no wolves will wait to snatch me, no roots will snare my feet. Long gone the wooded trails that bravely cut the shadow veils the skies no longer pierced by rows of spikened wood above the shapes in grass, raise naked walls to those who seek to paint their shelter, and step into their world. To close the door, and walk with kings who here dares to walk the path of kings? Over your shoulder, through the closing door lies a world where all is ours and magic has no place at all not so for hilltop man, who watched the line where sky meets land a lone path gave him little choice and here I know and hear his voice The cruelty of nature his reasons to be cruel his reasons to be harder his reasons to kill fools his reasons to be master through magic might and gods his reasons to speak truth and why he had no choice at all With the wind and the crows and the big empty space I humbly walk the only path through this lonely place Today we choose our cults false kings that mock and laugh but on this hill I walk the way that was the only path
On the winds of battle fresh in the sky, loosened and free drawn by your dark destiny in the halls you swore that you'd earn your names fame but the chances are slim of fighting a man you can see We will meet your eyes ours to hypnotise this begins the end the end of mine and your songs On the winds of battle fresh in the skies the moment is free our master is your destiny Flames and blazing fire all around devoured this begins the end the end of mine and your songs ( I will serve no master when unstrung ) Face the iron-tipped shower raining on our shield wall
Peasant King 08:54
It was a time of noble blood black from the ground it would flow through their veins songs of an abundant universe would dance on the tongues of both peasant and king But when the fires burn out, will they wear the same chains? Arise - they deck themselves in furs soon to forget what was what yesterday and wars will seek forever more slaves for the slaves that are freed from their slavery But when the fires burn out, who will wear the slave chains? A fisherman in Finland tell the story of a king who set upon mother nature every living thing dressed in peasant clothes and love within his heart he sought to place a crown upon the salt of all the earth He saw a peasant leading his horse and asked him this question: Do you know of a land where the sun always shines and the grass is so green it's like living a dream ''Over the hills over the seas only through the curtain of death lie our riches and there alone'' The king dressed as a peasant know he could better all gods and spoke of a salvation on the plains of middle earth over the hills over the seas is your destiny where wheels do turn as darkness burns and black blood carry thee laughing at gods they rode away into the wonderland where all was in abundance and all like them were crowned the horse rode with his peasant king beside him in the trap the straw was gold the lights burned strong they never once looked back The weight of ages borrowed would now need paying back the peasant king threw down his crown and turned back to his land But his horse was fucking useless and thought itself a king so to get them back he took up the slack and pulled the trap himself Passing... motionless carts human and horse skeletons in furs equally willing the reins to move them along.
Once I lived with my land and tilled the earth with my hands the sun bore down on my bare back the rain it ran down my face the law as clear as the skies the days went by as the bird flies through primogeniture I can till this piece of green and only I can afford it my life was one with pride I walked around armed to the teeth! my life was in my own hands Who has the land we had? The kingdom drew its lines that no one else could see the lines of the earth ignored them but beaten and cheated by traitors and money thieves the lines of the earth moved for them they took us into darkness and chained us to machines that bit and tore at our misery so when you hear of slaves you saw it here first in English woollen slum dwellery Who has the land we had? We look back at the green and the sheep have devoured the people The scorched earth precursor of doom enclosing with time We're left with the tale of how sheep devoured people.
(c) Symbel 2013 lyrics adapted from Robert E Howard poem In their lands they march in steel and glitter p'on their scales and silk the sun lies golden under moon we wear the hide of wolves in our hearts are the kings that beat the primal drum In their lands they ride brown steeds so gallant on their shields beset with sparkling jewels down below we fight with foot in the dirt in our hearts are kings that sound the ancient horn In their lands lions lay counting their treasure every knight, crowned with golden crests in the fens we race the heathen stallions for our hearts hold the riches of the highest towers Original poem: (c) Robert E Howard The men of the East are decked in steel, They march with a trumpet's din, They glitter with silks and golden scales, And high kings boast their kin- We of the West wear the hides of wolves, But our hearts are steel within. They of the East ride gallent steeds, Their spears are long and brown; Their sheilds are set with sparkling stones And each knight wears a crown- We fight on foot as out forebears fought, And we drag the rider down. We race the steed of the Saxon knight Across the naked fen- They of the East are full of pride, Cubs of the Lion's den. They boast they breed a race of kings- But we of the West breed Men.
Alone the leaves against me silence my tongue with each day I come here one day longer I walk The silence is deafening all rage so far aside clouds ride free above me on the bracken hillside To drink myself to death and to sink in the forest floor or let upon the bracken oh red and green what solace will it bring? The silence is deafening and calmed I am inside for when I cast no shadow on the bracken hillside The truthful have no choices the power it steals away best that the tongue stays mute I spoke to no one and no one spoke to me And thousands asked before me and thousands will again when swords have spared the journey how will it end? The sky is kind and warming the flies they will not say a vessel unseen by the wind steers its own way


The third album by SYMBEL. Forty minutes of gloomy and atmospheric black pagan metal.


released October 18, 2013


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SYMBEL Birmingham, UK

Formed in 2001 to release pagan crust black metal.

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