Then we ran down the river Van
To the mouth of old Fenrir
And he swallowed us up.
I collected rocks, filled up my pockets
and tried to swim across the stream.
I was told I’d be kept afloat
By the ghosts of the hills I’d flattened to get here.
Trusted a fiend and lost my hand.
My blood flowed white and filled the canyon,
And I saw faces in the leaves
And they were preaching to me.