The drums of war, the fires of violence
The bodies are scarred, by our actions
We do not carry the word of our Gods
We fight to feed our people, and live
The drums of war, the horns call out
We are coming, we will be there soon
If we'd quit this, our people would die
We will travel oceans and cross the land
And spread our way, and bring doom
They call us the Rus, for our red hair
And our complexion, polish by wind
This season of slaying, will end soon
But we will have changed our world
And we will have changed our lands
Neither proud to slay, nor to disdain
We're the Vikings, and we're forever
