Shields and swords Upon the field Blood is in the air On this day We shall see Our enemies flee in despair Their bodiesfall As we swing our swords Blood is everywhere Death is coming From the east No osee will be spared
The land to the west Where gold flows free Ah there will be left Are the flames of Lindisfarne
Dragon ships From the north A raging viking horde Shall ascent On our bornes And bury them in smoke
Your weak god and foolish prayer Will give nor peace or solace At the edge of our blades Your gods will answer with blood
The land to the west Where gold tlows free All there will be left Are the flames of Lindisfarne
Women and thralls Riches of gold All ours to take From the house of god
Church bell climes As the run from the sight of us The block the halls To hold us out We bury them in flames From the flames of Lindisfarne Rich are we as kings We will raid kill and steal Till there is no more
The land to the west Where gold flows free All there will be left Are the flames of Lindisfarne Women and thralls Riches of gold All ours to take From the house of god