they've arrived brought by the wind
and on our lands raised chantries
through fear tyranized our septs

behind a mask of kindness and golden cross staff
a restless evil dwelled


insolently we honor the pagan remains
oblivious to death your cross we profane


face painted and proud we ride
tyrany no more pumped in their veins
but on our axes and blades

blades which no longer shine
due to your cold blood on it stained


run, ride with us to the inevitable end
die with us, this is the only end to a brave