Was it all a bad dream?
I dreamed the berserkers came, biting their shields, And broke the windows of my house with their iron hatchets. They piled into my kitchen, swarming through the hall. They found my grandchildren's toys, broke them all. I saw them in the window, looking down on me In my bed, their powerful flashlights shown They used the butts of their lights to smash the glass It rained down on me; their boots ground the glass into me As they descended. Prostitutes danced above me in my bed And defiled it as I was in it. Was I dreaming? No matter. I will save up my anger and will build the soil.