Texty písní Mithotyn Gathered Around the Oaken Table The Guardian

The Guardian

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You, guardian of Bifrost.
You, who's born by nine sitsers.

You, who hear the grass grow.
You, who see hundreds of miles.

Guard your bridge
night and day.

Heimdall. Heimdall.

Blow your horn,
so all the worlds can hear.

Heimdall.
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