The minstrel in the gallery looked down upon the smiling faces. Then he called the band down to the stage and he looked at all the friends he'd made. The minstrel in the gallery looked down on the rabbit-run. Rough-shod winging sky blue flight on a cold wind to Valhalla. Break fast with the gods.
Night angels serve with ice-bound majesty.
Moon jet brave beam split ceiling swerve and light the old Valhalla. The heroes rest upon the sighs of Thor's trusty hand maidens. Sword snap fright white pale goodbyes in the desolation of Valhalla. In all your giving, given is the answer. Tearing life from limb and looking sweeter than the brightest flower in my garden.