I know I hung on a windy trunk 
All nine nights, wounded by thorns 
On the trunk grown out of roots 
Of a tree unknown to me 

I know I looked down, learnt runes 
Screaming I collapsed into it's shadows 
I learnt nine mighty spells 
Read out of the ancient stones 

Fed on hate, drunk with blood of the dead 
I started being produced 
And growing up with power 

(One word for the second found the third for me 
One deed for the second was searching 
For the third for me) 

I spread terror and pain, torture and death 
In this strange place of the end my time had come 
Tired with ruling the evil I'm freezing 
Like a bird braided between branches