A Sword of fire and an axe of cold 

Vision of the sibyl has fortold 

Armies gather on the battle-plain 

All will fall and earth will die in flame 



Here on the Battle-Plain 

We will die in Flame 



In Falcon's feathers soaring overhead 

Choosing warriors among the dead 

Twilight written in the runes of crowns 

Freya weeps upon her golden throne 



Upon her golden throne 

We wait for her alone 

Call us unto your hall 

Take us into your thrall