Текст песни
Up on the cold icy landscape in nowhere,
Where the wind chills a man down to his soul.
Peaceful surroundings are bursting with silence.
Another iceberg is trapped in the flow.
Men in tuxedos across the horizon.
Looking so sharp from their heads to their toes.
Diving for food in the depths of the waters.
Back to the group where their young's growing old.
The sounds of barking fill the air, from the distance comes the final terror.
Swiftly moving through the night, to make the strike by morning light.
On the sled there stands a man who'll do all the damage that he can do.
Animals become the prey, runaway.
Four miles from home when he reaches the hunting ground.
Quick, Mr. Seal, make your tracks in the snow.
Faster and faster they head to the shoreline.
Barking the notes of a son they all know.
Fire in his eyes as he raises the spear up to the sky.
Rush to the water the bull is the last to go.
Takes careful aim as he screams out his battle cry.
Quick, Mr. Seal, make your tracks in the snow.
An arrow drifting through the air, in his heart he feels the growing terror.
Vainly running for his life, a victim of the faithful strife.
The calling of life's destiny, a man must do all that he can do.
Animals become the prey, runaway.