Оригинален текст
Storm the rage awake.
The spirits leads a horde.
A warrior permawrath,
obvious take us all down.
Worlds unheaten by melts.
An frozen an mysticism colds us.
New upins forthwith stainly.
Starving goats of power throne.
Chimilling arounds halls of filth.
From cradle to grave born.
The end of life switching above
the shifting golden winter rage.
Norse's men on fire.
Souse's beasts on ice.
Eases's demons on stone.
Wese's thrones on glimpse.
And here we ride again,
with the sword power wide.
And flame throughout the sky.
Throned in ice wings!!!