Mistwalker - True Newfoundland Black Metal

From a spit of land I was born
Unbeknownst to the worldly norm
A forgotten realm in the North Atlantic
The first fortress against the ocean storms

November frost etched upon my soul
Lost nostalgia in bogs of woe
Drunken nights in a desolate shed
Spending time amongst the wooden dead

Raise your glasses, screech them in
Welcome home to Newfoundland!
Raise your glasses, screech them in
Welcome home to Newfoundland!

Heritage is lost and muddied to some
But for us it's not been forgotten
Amid the ragged cliffs of southeast shores
Our true identity shall be restored

Unique to this island
We've been born and bred into a culture
Raised on waves and wild weather
We are the lost folk that bear Canadian scars

Raise your glasses, screech them in
Welcome home to Newfoundland!
Raise your glasses, screech them in
Welcome home to Newfoundland!

True!
Newfoundland!
Black metal!

True!
Newfoundland!
Black metal!

True!
Newfoundland!
Black metal!

The salt of the sea flows through my veins
Nobody else can comprehend our ways
Only those who dwell in fog understand
The way that this land makes your spirit wane

Raise your glasses, screech them in
Welcome home to Newfoundland!
Raise your glasses, screech them in
Welcome home to Newfoundland!

Written by:
Greg Sweetapple

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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