This is the tale of the mournful ghost Of the man who sailed to distant coast Aeons ago he went through the dead tundra Where wild animals fed on stupid wanderer
He was the missionary with Holy Bible He stepped into the kigdom of idols But the demons were believed and the stranger was deceived The inquisitor kneeled begging for relief
They are the godless crew of the vicious men Christianity means death in the northern land Amongst the woods they eternally dwell Many wanderers come here to find their end
There are pagan realms somewhere in the north You turn back or you die, don’t go forth There are places where Jesus has failed There are bodies, there are bodies impaled
There are pagan realms somewhere in the north Don’t go forth