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Way down by the river shines,
the moon on the dark sky.
Dying bodies screaming break,
the silence of the summer’s night.
Our final breaths are fleeting,
but our pride could last a lifetime.

Tired from the battlefield,
from fighting in the rain.
We are tired but our time has come again.
Let them in!

Now we are dying at the side,
the side of our king.
The greatest glory that the gods,
the gods could ever bring.
Into the future our welded,
welded steel will ring.
And so the story every single,
single bard will sing,
of how we perished at the side of our king.

Moments from the clash of blood,
anxiety has broken free.
Fragments of my father and my homeland,
flash before me.
Visions from a distant time,
along with childhood melodies.
Fading out behind the man focusing on me,
our for blood and taller than a tree,
heavens key.

Now we are dying at the side,
the side of our king.
The greatest glory that the gods,
the gods could ever bring.
Into the future our welded,
welded steel will ring.
And so the story every single,
single bard will sing,
of how we perished at the side of our king.

Eyes are frozen staring at the moon on the darkened sky,
young we leave the ages right before the birds’ song up high,
and in between our broken shields our king and broken bodies lie.

We are dying at the side of our king,
the greatest glory that the gods could ever bring,
Into the future our welded,
welded steel will ring.
And so the story every single,
single bard will sing,
of how we perished at the side of our king.

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