| There comes Lopt the treacherous
|
| Lusting for revenge
|
| He leads the legions of the dead
|
| Towards the Aesir’s realm
|
| They march in full battle dress
|
| With faces grim and pale
|
| Tattered banners and bloody flags
|
| Rusty spears and blades
|
| Cries ring out
|
| Loud and harsh
|
| From cracked and broken horns
|
| Long forgotten battle cries
|
| In strange and foreign tongues
|
| Spear and sword clash rythmically,
|
| Against the broken shields they beat
|
| They bring their hate and anarchy,
|
| Onto Vigrid’s battlefield
|
| There comes Lopt, the treacherous
|
| He stands against the Gods
|
| His army grim and ravenous
|
| Lusting for their blood
|
| Nowhere is longer safe
|
| The earth moves under our feet
|
| The Great World Tree Yggdrasil
|
| Trembles to its roots
|
| Sons of Muspel gird the field
|
| Behind them Midgard burns
|
| Hrym’s horde march from Nifelheim
|
| And the Fenris Wolf returns
|
| Heimdal grips the Giallarhorn,
|
| he sounds that dreaded note
|
| Oden rides to quest the Norns,
|
| but their web is torn
|
| The Aesir rides out to war,
|
| with armor shining bright
|
| Followed by the Einherjer,
|
| see Valkyries ride
|
| Nowhere is longer safe
|
| The earth moves under our feet
|
| The Great World Tree Yggdrasil
|
| Trembles to its roots
|
| Sons of Muspel gird the field
|
| Behind them Midgard burns
|
| Hrym’s horde march from Nifelheim
|
| And the Fenris Wolf returns |