They called us the Scourge, the Dane, or Wildmen
But we knew our names, titles, our Gods, and fate
We traveled from our homelands, in the great North
We found Iceland, with black shores and volcanoes
Then Greenland, the land was treeless and lifeless
We raided the cities upon the Saxon and Irish shores
To mighty rivers of the East, down to the Black Sea
Our warriors served as bodyguards, to an Emperor
The Byzantine Empire wouldn't fall, in our hands
We were called the Rus, for our ruddy complexion
Seeding new lands, with our warriors, new legacies
Our memories of the past, will become legends
Our actions will be judged, as if they even know
The end will not be pleasant, but will be final
And no one will be able to write the history
In the snow, but the ravens and crows
