As travellers in the new forest
Searching for the answer, a sacred quest
Drunemetron, the worship of oak
Where there is fire, there also is smoke!
Chorus:
Heathen apotheosis
After ages lost, we rise
Heathen apotheosis
No stopping, at no price
Accused of heresy and witchcraft
They knew already better than us
Keeping the ancient in mind
The fire them did find!
Chorus.
Call us heathen, call us pagan
In a world that is dying
We will not burn, or be crying
Our age is the age of men
Our hate is the hate of men