Gray clouds Cover the winter sky Cold snow Falls like autumn leaves to the ground The icy wind Pierces the skin of waiting warriors Like spears will pierce their bodies in battle Frosted Beards on pale grey faces Eyes of death Are burning with rage Glancing across The fields of tyr In the early Morning light Warcries break the silent wait Charging warriors rush to kill Swords are swung in the air The Gods of war are called Vikings with fire in soul Clash in the open field Slaying with powerful strokes The snow is turning red Hooves gallop the plains Warlords on horsebacks Ride into battle With a thunderous roar The stormwind of death Blows across the field Sweeping with it Everyone in its way So the battle settles Alone stands just one man Under the grayclouded winter sky Alone