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