| Years of famine and years of sigh
|
| Reaps our land that fell from crest
|
| Creatures, serfs and men hung high
|
| Yet no remedy
|
| What will ever please our Gods?
|
| Gather the chiefs and sages
|
| What will save the tomorrow
|
| From these Dark Ages
|
| Slay and sacrifice our king
|
| Coat the statues with noble blood
|
| Intensify the holy smoke
|
| With a royal lamb
|
| Now neither your braves, your wise nor gold
|
| So far renowned
|
| Will be of aid now as the doomsday call
|
| Now you must rise up to show the steel
|
| Courage of your heart
|
| And soon you’ll raise your horn in Valhalla’s hall
|
| Skula, Skorpa, Skalk
|
| A man he served Mr. Lagers farm
|
| In summer, winter year by year
|
| Tell me, who cares for you now?
|
| For wear and tear under sky gray
|
| He only gets his bread as a reward
|
| Tell me, who cares for you now?
|
| Then the bid arrives quickly:
|
| - Our Lord camps your daughter!
|
| Tell me, who cares for you now?
|
| And the slaves now stepped through the door
|
| He leaves the plow at the edge of the ark
|
| Tell me, who cares for you now?
|
| - Mr lager now hears my words
|
| My daughter to your whore done
|
| Tell me, who cares for you now?
|
| And lager said in anger:
|
| - You do not protect your wooden blood
|
| Tell me, who cares for you now?
|
| Neither beer nor wine you intended
|
| Neither is ownership
|
| Dock Skula, Skorpa, Skalk
|
| Thrall did not know a word of
|
| Before his throat was cut off
|
| Tell me, who cares for you now?
|
| - This is probably a cure today
|
| And I take the daughter at will
|
| Tell me, who cares for you now?
|
| - Let me show you my right
|
| To comfort you in any way you can
|
| Tell me, who cares for you now?
|
| "Oh thank you!" |
| He said in a sobbing voice
|
| And thrust the knife into his chest
|
| - Tell me, who's taking care of you now? |