Steel strike now come into beingSpring up from the hot fire.Steel strike now rise from the ground.Arise from the busts of nymphs.Deadly steel its time to strike.Youll come to life by strikes.Black steel its time to strike -you hot tar-burning steel.Three steels its time to strike.You were forged by Ilmarinen.He picked you from the groundfrom footprints of beasts.Steel strike now come into being.Transform in the hot fire.Swear you now killing steelmerely to strike the enemies.Copper steel its time to strike.Strikes may build up your strength.Steel so red its time to strike -you hot-burning cross-steel.Fine and shiny steel strike now.You will be made by strikes.Whitish steel its time to strike -you sharpened killing steel.

Calmly I walk in the bone gardensI listen to the wind of north.I dig soil with my handsfor the good of the day to come.Tomorrow I will be back again.Well drink a cup and another.Ill toss soil in your spirits.You are to taste the might of death.So I agreed and so will do.I stayed up nights heard a soundfrom the depths of the dark mindfrom the caches of the horrible song.Soil of the corpse I give it to youI sprinkle it around for youto get rich to fall in love.I take a risk I check my cards.As you drink the soil like wine -crumbs remnants the corpse of mine -you will see the world with new eyes.You will see the world with insane eyes.If you dont drink the soil of deathif you dont taste the black earthI will then lose everything -my money mind and spirit.Tomorrow I will be back again.Well drink a cup and another.Ill toss soil in your spirits.You are to tste the might of death.Your head will turn your mind will twist.Youll sink in pain and youll fall down.Your destiny is death.The Underworld will be your home.So I agreed and so will do.I stayed up nights I heard a soundfrom the depths of the dark mindfrom the caches of the horrible song.

Osmotar the father of beerhe walked to the edge of the fields.The barley had come from Pellonpekko.Thus the barley was added to beer.Osmotar he rubbed his hands.So he rubbed the time after time.Thus the animals had come to life -those fetchers of the seasonings.He got the sap and he got spruce sprouts.Those he had fetched from the woods.Thats how Osmotar prepared the beerout of hops and barley.But the beer would not fermentThe costly ale lies still in place.Thats when the means were found by him -By Osmotar the god of beer.Get the predators salivaThen he followed the instructions.So he fetched the bears saliva.It was time for the beer to ferment -the dark proper beer so fragrant.Thus a toast was made to Ukko.Thus the pints of beer were raised.The holiest drink of them allwhich is called the sap of the gods.

Joukahainen he is great -greater than his stony relicthe vast barrow of Hot Steamshis tremendous sauna stove.Joukahainen he is gloomier -gloomier than the dark forestthe forest with a dark emotion.Behind it is the stove.Sneak through the gloomy forest.Look at the giant make offerings.Carry dark soil on your heels.Always carry it all the way home.In the dark soil and in the groundin the holes of rocks and in swampsthe gloomy creator will appear -Joukahainen from the dark side.A whisper reached my ear and theshadows returned upon my head -the dark dismal and silent god.The sounds of the forest shatter.The Giants kettle the barrow -those dark omens are now bygones.The land is the creators might.The might belongs to Joukahainen.

I heard the polka rhythm next doorand it set my soles on fire.Ievas mom she watched her daughterbut Ieva turned out a liar.No matter what her mother saysas its time to dance around.Ieva she wore a smile on her faceas people wished her luck for the day.Everybody had worked up a sweatand the violin kept on moaning late.No matter whether its boiling or notas its time to dance around.Ievas mom she slipped awayinter her chamber to sing a psalmwhile Ieva and the lad next doorthey had trouble keeping clam.No matter what the old hag saysas its time to screw around.After the music the fun began.Thats when the pal he messed around.But at home Ievas mom picked up a fightand Ieva she cried her eyes out.No matter what the old lady saysas its time to dance around.I told Ievas mom to keep it downI aint gonna beat you up indeedYou had better head for your chamberand Ill leave you in peace.No matter how gentle I amas its time to dance around.Im gonna be a hard one to trap.I aint gonna be a sitting duck.You travel to the east and to the westbut Ieva and I wont be out of luck.No matter whether I might be coyas its time to dance around.

The dream outside is askingwhether the child is in bed yetwhether hes wrapped in the blankets.The child is already in bed.He is lying in the blanketsbut he cannot fall asleep.Dream travel to him from outside.Weave up the the eyelids of the child.Weave them with your golden yarn.Dream appear from above the oven.Shoot the child on the eyelids.Shoot him with your drowsy arrow.Come from the huts of the Underworld.Come as a silent guide.Dont you worry little child.Leave cares to the one who caresworries to the one who worriesknowledge to the one who knows.Sleep does not come from outsidein the room of the cautious one.Dream mount a ewe and ride.Dream travel by a calm sheep.Let a blue-eyed horse carry you.Show him the way to the dreamland.Bring the Invisible a dream.Dream appear now from outside.Come through under the windows.Bind up the eyelids of the child.Bind them with your silken bond.Then the little one fell sleep.The golden yarn calmed his eyes.

Rapids and fields be merciful.Oh Tapio show me your grace.Show me the way to the islands.Let me wander through the woodlandswhere the elusive game iswhere I may at last find my prey.In the traces of Hiisis moosethrought the paths of savage deerfor the hunt I was now chosenfor the pursuit I am leaving.Through the woods of Tapiolaby Tapios huts ad lodges.Ukko you supreme creatorthe architect of all we seenow betow me with decent skis.Please grant me proper snow-shoes.They ought to carry me brisklywhile I am skiing through these swampsthrough the woodlands of Laplandby the marshlands and the meadows.Should rivers appear on the wayshould a creek be laid before youthen build a bridge out of silkand make stairs of scarlet color.Direct the deer through sounds and straits.Steer them through those streams and watersthrough the river of Pohjolathrough enormous frothy rapids.

There was a timeAnd there was a placeWhen we were one.And it was so stillAnd it was so darkAnd the place was my tum.And there came a timeAnd there came a placeWhen the bun was well done.We had waited the time.We had counted it out.We had done all the sums.So they tried to coaxWith the needles and smoke.And they stuck in the pinsAnd they burned my toe.And the moon was pinkAnd then the moon turned darkYou had started to start.You had started to start.You decided to startAnd the moon was dark.Oh and your power!Oh where should I start?Start to explainHow lucky we are.Cause he stayed with meAnd he stayed with youHolding on all the the time.And he stayed awakeAnd he didnt sleepAnd the next day we cried.Cause the turnip had turnedOh the turnip had turnedOh the turnip had turned.Oh the turnip had turnedOh the turnip turnedOh the turnip had turned.Ohhh - ooooo

There was a timeAnd there was a placeWhen we were one.And it was so stillAnd it was so darkAnd the place was my tum.And there came a timeAnd there came a placeWhen the bun was well done.We had waited the time.We had counted it out.We had done all the sums.So they tried to coaxWith the needles and smoke.And they stuck in the pinsAnd they burned my toe.And the moon was pinkAnd then the moon turned dark.You had started to start.You had started to start.You decided to startAnd the moon was dark.Oh and your power!Oh where should I start?Start to explainHow lucky we are.Cause he stayed with meAnd he stayed with youHolding on all the the time.And he stayed awakeAnd he didnt sleepAnd the next day we cried.Cause the turnip had turnedOh the turnip had turnedOh the turnip had turned.Oh the turnip had turnedOh the turnip turnedOh the turnip had turned.Ohhh - ooooo

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Q: At the Huts of the Underworld

Joukahainen a youthful sonLaplander a slender fellowbore a grudge within his heartbitter envy in his bosom.Thus he worked a fiery crossbowso he shaped a noble bowand he formed the bow of ironoverlaid the back with copper.Then the points were to be sharpened.So the arrows then were readyand his bow was fit for bending.Now should you bring bout Väinämöinens deathand by your arrow let him diejoy will then fade away from Earth.Songs cannot then be heard again.Elation is way better on Earyand the music is more cheerful in herethan somewhere in the land of the deadat the huts of the Underworld.Long he watched for Väinämöinenpeering peeping at the lodgessometimes listening in the alleyssometimes watching in the meadow.Spanned in haste his might crossbowand he aimed his splendid weaponat the head of Väinämöinenthus to kill Suvantolainen.And then the old Väinämöinenfell head over heels in wateroff the back of his blue moose.

Lyricist- Hit Lyricists Now Fogotten

Artist- Elvis Perkins in Dearland

Album- Selected Hits For All Moods

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Sweep up, little sweeper boyIt's you who's got the wig on hereSweep up, little sweeper boy, sweep upYellow is the color of my true love's crossbowYellow is the color of the sunAnd black is the color ofA strangled rainbowThat's the color of my lungBlack is the color of my true love's arrowThat's the ...

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Posted on 26 Mar 2025, this text provides information on Selected Hits For All Moods related to Hit Lyricists Now Fogotten. Please note that while accuracy is prioritized, the data presented might not be entirely correct or up-to-date. This information is offered for general knowledge and informational purposes only, and should not be considered as a substitute for professional advice.

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