Bold seafarer clad in iron, sails the northern winds, where gods whisper in the frost and tales of conquest echo through time.

I fuel your fire in the dead of night I’ll be a strong house if you do it right With my source standing high on top of the hill I’m the last name of the infamous Will

I wear a green coat, though I’m sweet inside, juicy and round, with seeds to hide. I bask in the sun and grow on the vine, slice me open, and enjoy a taste so fine!

We make milk without a teat. We make butter for your lotion. We're all standing in a row Or up high beside the ocean.

Born in silence, fed on leaves, I am torn from living sleep. Worms die so kings may shine. I crossed empires soaked in blood, passed hand to hand through plague and greed. Roads were named for me, yet I never chose the journey.