| As blood for wolves for riches and lust
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| Onward with hammers to chest
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| Villages burn, burn citys to dust
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| And for fun they tortue the rest
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| Cold, blue steel through a nice day’s breast
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| An avalanche of heathnes set sail
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| To show to the world of which men is beast
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| To conquer where others would fail
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| Odin is working to eagerly form
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| A great heathen fist from the north
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| Pray for your life when there’s signs of a storm
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| But praying won’t help when the dragons com forth
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| Roaming the bow, the berserks, the fierce
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| They know not fear of pain
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| Women and children are swimming in tears
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| While the berserks are going insane
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| Scholared embodies by blood and the mound
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| The clink of sword sound death chord
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| Bearslough and wolfslough are shaking the ground
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| Embraced by might, great northern horde
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| Odin, great warlord, I greed you with hail
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| This new god is weaker of class
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| Grant me thy powers, your secrets unveil
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| And I’ll kick this christ right in the ass |