| Dark was the dawn and biting was the air |
| The strong wind of death blew in the snowy plain |
| While the warriors of two tribes |
| Were waiting to fight for their lives |
| Hard were the times and cruel was the price |
| To pay to survive in this dark age |
| And so blew the deep battle horns |
| The sharp iron drank blood without rest |
| They fought as the lions, against the hungry dogs |
| They died like men, on the blood stained snow |
| In the fury of battle born a son of king |
| 'Victory" was written on the book of doom |
| His father game him a mighty sword |
| And told him: 'You always trust in this faithful steel" |
| When he grew strong as the storm |
| He went through the world thirsty for vengeance |
| Until he found the wicked man |
| And the strong wind of death blew again |
| They fought as the lions, against the hungry dogs |
| He won like a hero, on the blood stained stone |