They came with fire Furied us to belief In rising numbers Rabid silvered beasts Wolves clad in the victims skin Chanting maws wide open Downward floes of olden bloodline Our heritage in cold scorched land And so arrive The daughters of death Rotten from skin to bone You cast our sins in stone No lord above No horde below I need no shelter A hatchet in hand Silvertongued priests, burning homes The slithering evil Wearing malice as a weapon in disguise Aiming at the feeble En perkele pelkää kuolemaa Katellaha kuikaha kirives uppoaa hiippaan Rotten from skin to bone You cast our sins in stone No lord above No horde below I need no shelter A hatchet in hand A hatchet A hatcher in my... In my hand