The wind is coming over the wood Blowing through the hair of the old warrior Hills are shining under the rising sun His back hurts a lot today But now he is standing between his men His tribe he created in better times Now he has to defend this area He devastated in his glory youth
The fate of the Normans was passed They decide, who will die Death has been cast in everybody’s soul If you still have one
A horn is roaring, the battle begins Like thousands of thunders The men attack the enemy With no doubt Odin is waiting for All warriors who will die in his name With Met and youthful virgins He greets them in Valhalla With no exception
His son, gored by the enemy’s spear His wife, burning cause of that oil And burning arrows, they hit Everybody in his clan is bleeding "Where the hell is the ally I've called for our guidance?" The old man screams, in deadly rage Killing, burning, hate is coming up
In an ecstasy of blood he is He can't feel any pain The power of ten werewolves Is running trough his veins The old sword gets sharper He is fighting with no mercy Faster, harder than he ever fought Faster, harder than he was ever taught With greetings from the dead world and A smile on his face he walks through the lines
So he fought, until everybody died "The surviving enemies escape!", but There is not more than the number of his sons With blood in their faces they won His old heart is beating slower He breaks down, falls into his brother's arms With proud he has defended his tribe With hate he killed the danger
Now the old warrior is dying with proud He opens his mouth to say his last words: "Odin has sent greetings for enemy and me Greetings from the dead world.”Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
