The roads around here are straight Lead over mountains and mounds Here you will never get lost For all roads lead to your death
You will turn into (Into dust on the road) Into a grain of sand (On a bank of a river) You will turn into (Into a speck on a forest path) Into a grain of sand
The sweet substance of your blood With rushing waters will merge It will settle on the river’s bed Snow upon your grave mound
Only Tuonela’s river Is winding and crooked When fed to its rapids You will be ground Your flesh torn from your bones Your bones spat on its banks
You will turn into (Into dust on the road) Into a grain of sand (On a bank of a river) You will turn into (Into a speck on a forest path) Into a grain of sand
Your flesh torn from your bones Your bones spat on its banks
Your flesh (Only Tuonela’s river) Your bones Your flesh torn from your bones Your bones spat on its banks