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Fylgja

Fylgjav6

@Хоррор-фильмы-аниме-мистик

Gothic rock with sparse piano and distant bowed notes, tom-led drums, low-tuned distorted guitars and a low drone; expressive close-miked female vocal; wide cinematic layers, gritty guitars against a clear vocal, dramatic dynamic contrast; slow heavy pulse, tense verses swelling into a towering chorus, stripped-back bridge, final full-band surge and stark unresolved decay.

110 10.10.2026
0:00
04:42

Текст песни

[Intro] Before the ravens crossed the ridge, I saw her standing by the well. [Verse 1] My grandmother kept a chair turned toward the door, Said someone walked our bloodline long before. She wore my face beneath a veil of frost, And knew the name of every child we’d lost. [Pre-Chorus] In sleep, she comes without a sound, Her bare feet leave no prints on ground. [Chorus] Fylgja, waiting where the old roots wind, You follow every daughter down the line. When the black-winged morning gathers near, You show your face before the change is here. Fylgja, keeper of the names we bear, I wake with winter tangled in my hair. [Verse 2] The village bell rang once with no one there, A horse stood trembling in the empty square. You turned your pale eyes toward the northern pass, And every window clouded over glass. [Pre-Chorus] You never warn me what to do, You only stand where death walks through. [Chorus] Fylgja, waiting where the old roots wind, You follow every daughter down the line. When the black-winged morning gathers near, You show your face before the change is here. Fylgja, keeper of the names we bear, I wake with winter tangled in my hair. [Bridge] If I am last, then take my hand. If I must stay, then help me stand. Your borrowed eyes are mine tonight; The house holds still. The well turns white. Tell me which child you came to claim— Or whose first breath will speak your name. [Final Chorus] Fylgja, waiting where the old roots wind, You follow every daughter down the line. Now the black-winged morning fills the sky, And I see who is coming by your eyes. Fylgja, keeper of the names we bear, A newborn cries—and you are standing there. [Outro] Before the ravens cross the ridge, You’re by the cradle. You’re by the door.

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