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