| 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? |