Many a foe felled, many a blade fed, many a widow made, all in the name of All-father.

the ravens cloud all I can see
in the skies above the killing field
a feast of flesh of dying men
a song of swords, the songs of death

rain of spears, thunderous hooves
to each man fate has roused
blood-soaked rage hews head and limb
screams of agony, the dead give in.

the battle-joy fills each heart
with Valfather's pledge
to die with sword in hand
answering Woden's command.

Die.

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