VILDÁ - Mäkrävaaran Äijö | The Old Man Of Mäkrä Hill (Official Music Video) скачать в хорошем качестве

VILDÁ - Mäkrävaaran Äijö | The Old Man Of Mäkrä Hill (Official Music Video)

Lyrics in English below! | VIDEO | Director: Kim Saarinen | Screenplay: Kim Saarinen, VILDÁ | Director of Photography & Editing: Kim Saarinen | Costume Design: VILDÁ, Hilkka Huovinen | Make-up: Marjaana Kokkonen | MUSIC | By VILDÁ - Mäkrävaaran Äijö / The Old Man Of Mäkrä Hill | Comp. Viivi Maria Saarenkylä | Arr. Viivi Maria Saarenkylä, Venla Ilona Blom | Lyrics: Viivi Maria Saarenkylä, Hildá Länsman | Music recording&Mixing: Tuomas Haimakainen | Publisher: Bafe's Factory Produced by MODOMO FILMS © 2019 All rights reserved | VILDÁ | Facebook:   / duovilda   | | Instagram: @vildaduo | | Booking: http://saurabooking.com/en/artist/vilda | | Label: http://bafesfactory.fi/vilda/ | | ENGLISH LYRICS | VILDÁ - The Old Man Of The Mäkrä Hill | Mmm... The scent of butchering, oh boy! I let the blood run into my cup to keep. I gulp it down into my own gut. What’s left I pour for the ravens to see. The meat, the blubber I smoke in my nook. The sweat frizzles as in the sauna. The ears, the tail, the hooves will be cleansed. But once again a squealer has pushed its way into my cabin, raided me of my sugar. Lemmings. Those sourpusses of the Arctic. I once listened to their bluster and quibbling. Who’s the envious one? Scoffers! They nibble what they can from the ground. The old man of the Mäkrä Hill, you old one the gnome of the Mäkrä Hill The old man of the Mäkrä Hill, you old one come out of your den! The old man of the Mäkrä Hill, you old one the gnome of the Mäkrä Hill The old man of the Mäkrä Hill! The strange one, the deuce, the gnome of the forest. The villain of the dark spruce, the little geezer. The old man’s pine The old man’s spruce The old man’s boghole Just go onto the cliff, on the edge of the old man’s canyon and he’ll take you for good to the depths of the black forest. The gnome, the old man of the forest, the wizened old man from a hole in a spruce. The strange thing from the wildwood, from the grim chambers in the tree stump. It clambers from under the canyon’s edge, out of the moss of the boggy wood. Out of the ancient forest’s shelter, out of the mountain’s dusky shadow.