The battle weary bring the wounded home
The soles of the dead face the Holy one
As the king smiles unto the rose
Justified in what he knows

[Chorus:]
Sing glory to the king, for his holy win, 
Over territory [x2]


We bury the dead and turn the horses for home
After laying a wreath against the last tombstone.
A final word for the passing by the holy priest
We head for home for a celebratory feast

[Chorus]