Mother

You see the sleepy lights
My yellowish-white eyes

You see my filthy hair is breeding with weeds
My marbled skin on which animals feed

You catch the fetid stench of my dis-ease
And hear again my desperate beg of no Mother please

You pause by the spot where you held my head under
Decaying moss and plants choke the water

Come I’ll help you pass swiftly through the veil
Come you look dead already with your skin so pale

Come inhabit your end the remotest of places
Come let’s let the water cover our faces

Mother come let me guide you let me guide your head
Deep deep down to our swampland bed

- Commissioned by Bogwitch for the album Tales From The Swamp

Pet Sematary (A Homage)

Don’t do it don’t do it don’t do it I don’t want to come back
Reeking of earth heavy with curse

Don’t bury me at the Indian Burial Ground
Don’t bury me at the Indian Burial Ground
The ground is sour sour will be my mound

Remember remember what Jud said
Sometimes it’s better to be dead

If you climb the deadfall
If you don’t look down or back

If you follow the Wendigo's gobbling laugh
If you put me down in the sour sour soil
It won’t be the me you know that comes back

Don’t bury me at the Indian Burial Ground
Don’t bury me at the Indian Burial Ground
The ground is sour sour will be my mound

Remember, remember what Jud said
Sometimes it’s better to be dead

Let the moss grow thick on my skin
Don’t bring me through the pine and spruce again

Don’t take me past the weathered arch
And the graves of scrapwood and tin

Leave me where I lie
I don’t want to walk again

- Released as a single with my music project Blóðnætur.

Plague Hag

It’s 1349 and on a ship from England
I arrive in Norway I arrive in Norway

One man sees me leave
He sees my rake and my broom
His face is stricken with terror
His eyes become wide as the moon

If I carry my broom you’re doomed
So there’s no point in running my dear
No one will be living when I’ve come through

If I carry my rake there’s some chance of escape
If I carry my rake you might live

Will I the plague hag take your life
Or will I spare it for now

Word of me spreads like wildfire
Folk lock windows and doors
But I move from farm to farm
It's impossible to keep me away

I’m clad in black flies and rats surround me
As I make my trail of oblivion through Norway

Folk die in their beds die toiling the land
Folk die spinning thread die with dough in their hands
Children are orphaned left all alone left all alone

Will I the plague hag take your life
Or will I spare it for now

Word of me spreads like wildfire
Folk lock windows and doors
But I move from farm to farm
It's impossible to keep me away

But before long before long everything is still
But before long before long everything is still

- Features on Cave Mouth's third album Daughters of the North. ​

​Angrboda

My daughter is half dead half alive
She looks at you with different coloured eyes
My son has fur and fangs and deathlike growl
When Ragnarok arrives you’ll hear his howl
My second son is legless has venom and scales
He encircles the whole world he bites his own tail

I am the mother of Hel
I am the mother of Fenrir wolf
I am the mother of Jörmungandr

East of Midgard in Jotunheim is where you’ll find me
In the forest of Ironwood in the forest of Ironwood

I am Angrboda a Jotunn and bringer of grief
And I laid with Loki I laid with Loki
And I laid with Loki I laid with Loki

The gods expected nothing but chaos from offspring
They feared them all and took them from my hall

Through each of my children I unravel creation
Through each one of my children I bring about destruction

I am Angrboda a Jotunn and bringer of grief
And I laid with Loki I laid with Loki
And I laid with Loki I laid with Loki
​
​- Features on Cave Mouth's third album Daughters of the North.