Thus was created the spider of nightmares
Loki said to his firstborn
No light can escape it, no torches no flares
So the sleeping unfaithfull will be forever scorned

It resides in the primitive lands of Africa
Where she creaps through the mist
And embraces the dreaming flesh

Horrors of frosen strongholds
Manifest in the tribesmen´s dreams
Untill they wake up screaming,
yet still dreaming.

A lone boy rises in the frosen tundra
Gazes to the woods,
A fear like no other
embraced and smothered

Huge white warriors step out of the fog
Pale as corpses, horned like bulls
Surrounding him like his crushing despair
Defence is futile against white northern devils

The boy wakes up in a bath of cold sweat
Who were those demons?
Why did they stand so still
In time they´ll come for us, I know they will…