Born of a harsh land
Children of the north
Forged by the wild
Tempered by the cold
Honorbound and merciless
Feared by all who oppose
Sons of the Allfather
They march into battle with pride
Battleborn
Hear the cries of havoc
No fear or remorse
With fury of the storm
Baptized in blood
Marching with heads held high
Echoing their warcry
Striking fear into
The hearts of the foe
Born again in the heat of battle
Their true nature is revealed
When the turmoil subsides
Only the strongest remain
Battleborn
Hear the cries of havoc
No fear or remorse
With fury of the storm
Baptized in blood
With animalistic rage
Fire in their eyes
Spreading fear in the hearts of the weak
Dreaded are the norsemen
Who feel no pain
The chosen men of the gods
On the eve of battle
With ravens two
Watching over whom
Courage holds true
The allseeing eye
Favors the brave
Over scorched fields they march
No mercy for the defeated
Death is certain
No odds to grim
Cries of anguish
Their everlasting hymn | 
