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From the war they return

Marching as one

One of them in a victorious mood

A gloom upon the rest

For they left behind the one

Freshly crowned son

Their leader unavenged so far

For on one can claim

To have seen the deed

Yet, only one stands to gain

From this ruthless feat

Unaware of the mood

The sentiment of his men

He’s still riding the high

As they return to their lands

After day and night

A funeral pyre is raised

For the king now replaced

The flames of farewell burning bright

Whispering

Can you hear?

The rumors, are they real?

Whispering

Can you hear?

They speak of a bereaver

Bereaver

The first son, once more

The new chief, the new king

All hail to the firstborn resworn

Bereaver

The first son, once more

The new chief, the new king

All hail to the firstborn resworn

Blood still aflow on his sword

Bereaver

The first son, once more

The new chief, the new king

All hail to the firstborn resworn

Who now sits on the throne

The flames of farewell burning bright

Whispering

Can you hear?

The rumors, are they real?

Whispering

Can you hear?

They speak of a bereaver

Bereaver

The first son, once more

The new chief, the new king

All hail to the firstborn resworn

Bereaver

The first son, once more

The new chief, the new king

All hail to the firstborn resworn

Blood still aflow on his sword

Bereaver

The first son, once more

The new chief, the new king

All hail to the firstborn resworn

Who now sits on the throne