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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