| Born of power and steel
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| With the anger and will of many men
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| Fighting for his kind from power within
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| With death’s cold waiting hands
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| Forged long ago
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| Wrapped around in swirling flames
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| Hardened by my enemies' blood
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| Wealth shaped by my swinging blade
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| The battle-forged grip of a seafarer
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| Risen from the darkness of war
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| Dripping with my enemies blood
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| Glory cut by my mighty sword
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| And the shining iron edge’s might
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| My Hammer-Forged blade
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| Bloodthirsty and ready for battle
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| Striking fear over my enemy’s spear
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| I tear the life from their bodies
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| My bladework, they’ll never forget
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| My bladework, they’ll never forget
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| And death’s cold grip
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| Dragging them in a corpse-like way
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| When the battle horn sounds
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| With an angry sword
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| I beat back the enemy horde
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| Towards death’s cold waiting hands
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| My weapon and its fury, its precision
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| An extension of my person
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| Barbaric rage fuels the might
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| From which it’s driven
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| Mauling all before its path
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| Weary of their vanishing lives
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| My iron hacks through the air
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| Chopping with my hammer-forged blade
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| Ending their lives
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| Their heads roll at my side
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| I tear the life from their bodies
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| With an angry sword
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| Driven into oblivion
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| None survive
|
| Forged long ago
|
| Wrapped around in swirling flames
|
| Hardened by my enemies' blood
|
| Wealth shaped by my swinging blade
|
| The battle-forged grip of a seafarer
|
| Risen from the darkness of war
|
| Dripping with my enemies blood
|
| Glory cut by my mighty sword
|
| And the shining iron edge’s might |