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Clattering hooves rip up the steppe

You hear their cries they want their wrath

From the walls you see the signs

Golden banners and flags arise

Dank smells will rise

Your nostrills wide it burns your eyes

Oder of pest

Your time has come you will face death

They attack with all their might

The walls will hold we'll win the fight

Defending man and structure

From the smell of pestilence

But then again the smell returns

Warriors dead their corpses flung

When the skies are clear from disease

We're marching over them with ease

Watch them crawl in demise

Blood is gushing from their white eyes

You can't save yourself or anyone

From the wrath of the horde

Dank smells will rise

Your nostrills wide it burns your eyes

Oder of pest

Even their corpses bring certain death