AGALLOCH LYRICS

1. The Isle Of Summer

[Children:]
“We carry death out of the village!”

2. Birch Black

[Instrumental]

3. Hollow Stone

[Instrumental]

4. Pantheist

[Instrumental]

5. Birch White

The birch tree in winter
Leaning over the secret pool
Is Narcissus in love
With the slight white branches.

The slim trunk,
In the dark glass;
But,
Spring coming on,
Is afraid,
And scarfs the white limbs
In green.

The slim trunk,
In the dark glass;
But,
Spring coming on,
Is afraid,
And scarfs the white limbs.

The birch tree in winter
Spring coming on,
Is afraid,
And scarfs the white limbs
In green.

The birch tree in winter
Leaning over the secret pool
Is Narcissus in love
With the slight white branches.

The birch tree in winter
Spring coming on,
Is afraid,
And scarfs the white limbs
In green.

6. Sowilo Rune

Who sleep shall, awake. .
Greeting the shadows from the sun.

Who sleep shall awake. .
Watching the thunder of our lives.

Waiting for the moment to arrive.
Show us the silence in the rise.

So that we may.
Someday understand...

[Lord Summerisle:]
"Now, those children out there, they're jumping through the
flames in the hope that the god of the fire will make them fruitful. Really,
you can't blame them. After all, what girl would not prefer the child of a god
to that of some acne-scarred artisan?"

[Sergeant Howie:]
"And you encourage them in this?"

[Lord Summerisle:]
"Actively! It's most important to teach new generation born of
Summerisle be made aware that here the old gods aren't dead."

[Sergeant Howie:]
"And what of the true God? To whose glory churches and
monasteries have been built on these islands for generations past? Now shall
what of Him?"

[Lord Summerisle:]
"Oh, He's dead. He can't complain. He had his chance and in
modern parlance. Blew it."

7. Summerisle Reprise

[Lord Summerisle:]
“And the ministers fled the island never to return. What my grandfather
started out of expediency, my father continued out of love. He brought me
up the same way: to reverence the music, and the drama, and the rituals of
the old gods; to love nature and to fear it, and to rely on it and to
appease it when necessary. He brought me up —”

[Sergeant Howie:]
“He brought you up to be a pagan!”

[Lord Summerisle:]
“A heathen, conceivably, but not, I hope, an unenlightened one.”







AGALLOCH LYRICS