Fields Of Eternal Glory

Through clouds of fog and ice we are gathered under a dark starry sky

Our pagan fires are burning in the night

Flames rise high up to the sky; unholy omen of hell

Riding with the winds we have come with the strength of one thousand swords

The old man mutters words of hatred and grief

His face scarred by traitor's hands, eyes gazing into nothingness

Shadow of a once mighty warrior

Anxiously clenching the hilt of a rusty sword

Now the time of repent is close at hand

The ground will start to open

And hellfire, bright and perilous, seething messenger of death and pain

Will fulfill its destiny destructively

For the day is not far when we will kill their sons and rape their daughters

We will burn and plunder their villages

Culminating in the destruction of their cursed churches

Symbols of oppression and humiliation

The glowing ashes of which they will behold before we finally cut their throats

Smoke will rise from the ground

The triumphant roar of our horde

Condemned and mocked for so many years

Will fill the air with a victorious rage

Ride along my faithful comrades

And feast upon their rotting corpses

And curse their poisonous blood for eternity

For our race has sworn an oath to earth and elements

The sermons of liars we despise, the prayers of weaklings we hate

Their bodies will rot on the soil they so eagerly tried to flee

Eyes picked by the ravens, their souls will wander the battlefield evermore

The fields of retaliation where the christian race will meet its final doom

No mercy for the weak, by wolves' teeth the sheep will be slain