Crave the blood of our grands
Consumed by eternal haze
Left the path of roaring ties

Led by ancient signs

Sorrow lies


See the lightning's magic glare
Fire, water, earth and air

Sow the seeds to our land
Reaped by honoured men


Mourning fens to memorize

Joy of balmy-granted suns

Pride... and sorrow dies
Fill the mead on our lips
Hail and sing to send away...

Away the weeps!

And shame as curse on our hands

Buried by voracious sands
Heft the burden of our sins
Led by weird wins


Now we bleed


Seal the hightning's tragic dull
Colour, grimed by human hull
Row the weeds of our land

Awoken by indebted men

Duty calls to vitalize


Joy of balmy-granted suns
Pride... and sorrow dies

Fill the mead on our lips
Send away the worthless weeps
The weeps of our orphaned kind

We'd forgot about pride
But fylfot flies in bloodied skies
Inundated souls rise!


And sorrow dies...