Storm the winter shores of England Fa la la la la, la la la lan. Loot and pillage with your warband Fa la la la la, la la la lan.
Celebrate the glorious battle Fa la la la la, la la la lan. Troll the ancient Yule tide carol, Fa la la la la, la la la lan.
In the blaze of London burning, Fa la la la la, la la la lan. Slay your foes and sing ‘til mornin, Fa la la la la, la la la lan.
Follow me in this adventure, Fa la la la la, la la la lan. While I tell of gold and treasure, Fa la la la la, la la la lan,
Far away on eastern beaches, Fa la la la la, la la la lan. We will find a home and riches, Fa la la la la, la la la lan.
Off we norsemen sail together, Fa la la la la, la la la lan. Heedless of the wind and weather, Fa la la la la, la la la lera.
Conquer the World, and rule its lands! Let earth receive her King; Let every soul, be guided by your hand. Grand strategy is your game Grand strategy is your game Grand strategy, grand strategy is your game
Conquer the World, your rightful realm! Lead men to victory! Through fields and floods, rocks, hills and plains Let slip the dogs of war Let slip the dogs of war Let slip, let slip, the dogs of war
You rule the world with might and grace, And make your nation grow, People and cultures, united by your hand, A historical paradox A historical paradox A historical, ahistorical paradox.