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Shields and swords

Upon the field

Blood is in the air

On this day

We shall see

Our enemies flee in despair

Their bodiesfall

As we swing our swords

Blood is everywhere

Death is coming

From the east

No osee will be spared

The land to the west

Where gold flows free

Ah there will be left

Are the flames of Lindisfarne

Dragon ships

From the north

A raging viking horde

Shall ascent

On our bornes

And bury them in smoke

Your weak god and foolish prayer

Will give nor peace or solace

At the edge of our blades

Your gods will answer with blood

The land to the west

Where gold tlows free

All there will be left

Are the flames of Lindisfarne

Women and thralls

Riches of gold

All ours to take

From the house of god

Church bell climes

As the run from the sight of us

The block the halls

To hold us out

We bury them in flames

From the flames of Lindisfarne

Rich are we as kings

We will raid kill and steal

Till there is no more

The land to the west

Where gold flows free

All there will be left

Are the flames of Lindisfarne

Women and thralls

Riches of gold

All ours to take

From the house of god