A desolate aeon has passed since the demise of our crown A tragic end which made hecates and predictors wail But dragons still sleep tranquil in proud heathen hearts
At first they came wearing their most innocent masques Telling vikings vague stories about a nazarene whelp While keeping their swords drawn behind their backs
Storms of Asgard Engulf the unfaithful Storms of Asgard Reclaim your throne
They spread their odius thorns all over northern soil Some unfaithful sheeps swore allegiance to them But some rather died Their craving and megalomania became too much Raping northern soil before pagan eyes spawned hate There where great battles but the outcome were not
The pagans volcanic wrath is still alive in our hearts And the white veil which still covers us Will be torn apart
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