Ah, We come from the land of the ice and snow, From the midnight sun where the hot springs blow. Hammer of the gods will our ships to new land, To fight the sing and cry: Valhalla, I am
On we sweep with threshing oar, Our only goal will be the shore.
Ah, ah, We come from the land of the ice snow, From the midnight sun where the hot springs blow. How soft fields so green, can whisper tales of gore, Of how we calmed the tides of war. We are young overlords.
On we with threshing oar, Our only goal will the western shore.
So now you'd better stop and rebuild all your ruins, For peace and trust win the day despite of all your losing.