TITLE:
Huginn Brings the Word

STYLE:
Nordic Viking metal fused with hip-hop, drop-D down-tuned heavy guitars, pounding war drums, tagelharpa and bone flute, deep throat-singing drones, cinematic strings, male baritone half-rap lead, female contralto lead, massive mixed choir, gang shouts, anthemic, epic, modern heavy production, clear intelligible English vocals, 84 BPM, slow ominous build, D minor, raven calls, storm wind

EXCLUDE STYLES:
autotune, EDM drop, lo-fi, comedy, spoken-word only, children's choir, country, reggae

LYRICS:
[Intro - wind and raven calls, lone tagelharpa, female contralto a cappella, distant and cold]
At the grey edge of morning
Two black wings come home.
One carries what we think.
One carries what we know.

[Build - war drums enter one by one, throat-singing drone, low choir hum, instrumental]

[Verse 1 - male baritone half-rap, restrained and heavy, drop-D riff with pockets of silence]
Huginn on the high seat, feathers wet with ash,
Whispers in the old man's ear before the thunder crash.
Says the eastern hall has sharpened every blade,
Says they lit the beacon first, says the price is paid.
The old man never saw it, but the raven never lies,
That is what we told ourselves while smoke filled up the skies.
Every jarl is listening, every horn is on the wall,
One bird and one sentence is enough to wake them all.

[Pre-Chorus - female contralto, rising, strings swell]
Who taught the bird to speak?
Who put the words in its beak?
Hold the horn, hold your breath,
A lie flies faster than death.

[Chorus - full band, huge mixed choir, slow and anthemic, title held long]
Huginn brings the word,
Black wing over fire.
Every hall has heard,
Every tongue a liar.
Huginn brings the word,
And the word is war.
Ask who fed the bird
Before you bar the door.

[Verse 2 - male baritone half-rap, more rhythmic, double-kick under the riff]
Morning after morning, and the story grows,
Now it has a witness, now it has a nose,
Now it has a footprint pressed into the snow,
Made by boots that no one in the valley seems to know.
Fathers oil the axes that their grandfathers retired,
Sons who never met the east are certain they were fired.
Fear is a good harvest if you own the only mill,
Somebody is grinding while we climb the killing hill.

[Chorus - full band, choir, gang shouts HEY on the downbeats]
Huginn brings the word,
Black wing over fire.
Every hall has heard,
Every tongue a liar.
Huginn brings the word,
And the word is war.
Ask who fed the bird
Before you bar the door.

[Outro - music drops to tagelharpa and wind, female contralto whispered, single raven call]
Ask who fed the bird.
Ask who fed the bird.