Mistwalker - Tinder Insurgents
There is a brisk chill in the airOut into the backwoods we go
Chainsaws and pulp hooks in hand
To gather wood before the coming of the snow
Felling down trees in the old trails
Wood chips, sawdust and gasoline
Evergreen needles and birch bark
Coat my red flannel and old jeans
Tinder insurgents, this is the way of the lumberjack
Tinder insurgents, woodsmen out on the attack
Fuel for the harshing winter
Getting fucked up out in nature
Blasting Darkthrone out of the speakers
Forest metaller is my stature
Tinder insurgents, this is the way of the lumberjack
Tinder insurgents, woodsmen out on the attack
Tinder insurgents, Vikings hiking the Vinland weald
Tinder insurgents, mountain men, we shall never yield
Written by:
Greg Sweetapple
Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
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