The Last Word
My first concept album: a heavy metal Viking opera. It opens with me at the end of my rope: alone, cracked, too tired to fight, and hearing the thing I was most afraid of laughing at me. I didn't know yet that the beast was my own need.
The stone, the mud, the ice, the rain
A trinity of endless pain
It soaks the leather, chills the bone
A cold that leaves a man alone
My shield is cracked, the leather torn
The final warrior, lost, forlorn
Can't lift the sword, can't make a sound
Just bitter rain on frozen ground
And I can hear the laughter of the beast
As it comes to start the final feast
My allies gone, my strength is spent
A final, broken instrument
The monsters watch, they know the sound
Of a good man crying on the ground
A giant's club, a serpent's fang
The snapping jaw where the wolf-pack sprang
A hundred fronts, a thousand blows
How the circle shrinks, the terror grows
A splintered shield, a shallow breath
Another small, insulting death
A searing cut, a frozen tear
The end is close, the end is here
And every wound, it sings a song
Of every choice that I got wrong
And every failure, every sin
The beast outside, the beast within
And I can hear the laughter of the beast
As it comes to start the final feast
My allies gone, my strength is spent
A final, broken instrument
The monsters watch, they know the sound
Of a good man dying on the ground
A flash of warmth, a distant face
A memory of another place
A whispered promise, soft and low
A single word, the last word, no
A scream of bone, a surge of hate
I set my arm, I choose my fate
A final stand, a final breath
There's life enough for one more death
And they can hear the roaring of a man
Who's thrown away the final plan
My allies gone, my strength is spent
A final, perfect instrument
The monsters watch, they know the sound
Of a good man rising from the ground