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Born Of ThunderWherever I tread on this haunted, holy groundI look to the skies above, the clouds armed with storm... Born of thunder is he who rides Down from the tempest's burning soul, To Midgard with a hammer in his hand On his chariot made of living fire... He's the protector of men: His name is a magic word; He's a god come from on high- He's the one... Whenever I see the glory that dawns each morn, Frozen like steel, enchanted by Northern light... Born of thunder is he who rides Down from the tempest's burning soul, To Midgard with a hammer in his hand On his chariot made of living fire... He's the protector of men: His name is a magic word; He's a god come from on high- He's the one... Robbed in such splendor, Immortal eyes bedewed With the gift of prophecy... Where I tread on this haunted, holy ground I took to the skies above, the clouds armed with storm... Born of thunder is he who rides Down from the tempest's burning soul, To Midgard with a hammer in his hand On his chariot made of living fire... |