Wastelands Of Cold, The Deathlike Beauty
  Memories Stained By The Tainted Blood
  An Urge To There On The Hillside Gather
  A Warmass On Our Ancestral Grounds
  Then Forge Revenge On Those Who Made The Tale Come True
  Cremate Them On Their Own Fires
  Judge Them To Fall From This Earth
  Under The Weight Of Our Steel
  
  Let The Altar Crumble By The Winternight
  And The Icon Burn By Our Hate
  Let The Gate Be Crushed And Vengeance Dance
  Like The Blood That Shall Cover The Earth
  They Came With Words Of Light
  Our Reply Sung Out By Axe
  Singing Their Pestful Songs
  While Life Spills Out Before Them
  
  Ancestral Souls Among Us aGther
  Those Who Watched The Lake Before The Cross
  Through Mountains And Pinewoods Tales Behold
  Of The Sin That Sank The North
  Bringing Us Strength To Kill
  And Laugh While The Sword Cuts Deep
  Their Tears Will Never Quench
  The Firefull Hate Beyond Their Grace
  
  For When Sorrow Forces Its Dreadful Stake
  Through The Heart Of The Spoiled Soul
  The Dead Will Never Find Their Peace
  And Souls Again Turn Black
  Their Lies Fall From Time
  In A Plague With Countless Fallen
  Even If They Fear Us With Their Lives
  They Sealed Their Own Death
  
  We Rally Our Banner In The Wind
  Legioneers To Bring Time To An End
  May It Be That We Are The Sin
  But Our Call We Shall Follow
  The Darkened Blade Through The Heart Of Light
  We The Faithless Tyrants
  Covenants Of An Eternal War
  Kings To Be Crowned By Bloodfilled Rage