A blood red sun will rise before us
We won't let our lands be crossed
No church, book or sword will break us
What's ours we will not give up
The tales told in a golden age
A time of heathen ways
Now our lands cloaked in fear
Hunted down, the age of tears
Rivers of life have turned to grey
All what once was has gone away
The mountains we've climbed, the seas we've sailed
This time of ending has fueled our hate
Some pray to the gods in hope
That they will clean our lands
Though with pagan strength and hearts of steel
That is the path for us to go
We ride through the vast forest
Following the footsteps of our hope
Hope of a time we have heard and read
Though never was it ours to live
We will ride towards the mountains
This day we take what was not theirs to claim
And we will restore the altars of our gods
So our pagan hearts can be reborn