May
30 June 2009
Man kanske skulle ta o åka på Sävsjöfestivalen?
Through a dark and desolate valley he walks Pale, flickering fires light the way Along an ice cold river lies his path The sky is of darkest grey A cold wind pierce through his bones And the sharp ro
He hung on the windswept world tree Whose roots no one knows For nine whole days he hung there pierced By Gungnir, his spear Swimming in pain he peered into the depths And cried out in agony Reaching
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