A desolate aeon has passed since the demise of our crow A tragic end which made hecates and predictors wail But dragons still sleep tranquil in proud heathen hearts At first they came wearing their most innocence masques Telling vikings vague stories about a nazarene whelp While keeping their swords drawn behind their backs Storms of Asgard Engulf the unfaithful Storms of Asgard Reclaim your throne They spread their odius thorns all over northern soil Some unfaithful sheeps swore allegiance to them But some rather died Their craving and megalomania became too much Raping northern soil before pagan eyes spawned hate There where great battles but the outcome were not The pagans volcanic wrath is still alive in our hearts And the while veil which still covers us Will be torn apart