Years of famine and years of sigh Reaps our land that fell from crest. Creatures, serfs and men hanged 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.
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