'Twas the feast of yule
Three foul knocks did exhume
The hungry king met eyes with a chief from the tomb
Up and beyond the hill
My lovely daughter awaits
Like a horny wolf the monarch stormed right out of the gates
A most magnificent maid
Bestowed a bowl of wine
He drank it all at once and bellowed: You will be mine

Lit by the touch of his spellbinding bride
His hungry fires burning deep inside
From freezing forests cold howled Ymir's breath
On all the gods he swears to love her
Love her to death

The queen would bear him sons
All was well he thought
Until a few years on but then her body would rot
Three cold winters long
She spent most statuesque
He stubbornly refused to see his love was grotesque
Ah, it's no wonder, king
You honor your wife so fair
But the greatest honor would be new clothes to wear

Lit by the touch of his spellbinding bride
His hungry fires burning deep inside
From freezing forests cold howled Ymir's breath
On all the gods he swears to love her
Love her to death

Tonight is ripe for necromance

They began to move her body from her bed
And suddenly they were struck by a smell
A pungent stench from Hel
Feed her to the fire
The flames burn ever higher
Her flesh has turned blue
Boiling like a witch's brew
Boiling like a witch's brew

Out from the ashes, demon serpent gnashes
Lizards and toads crawling from her robe
The evil that dwelled within her has been quelled
No longer will he hear the whispers in his ear
The whispers in his ear