Loot the dead and hack up their breastplates
Throw their coin in the sea
Break their reigns and drown the horses in the whirlpool
Hang the stragglers from the tree
We are Nordmanni
No spoils we take
and to the vanquished
No mercy shown
We are the Vikings
Our gods are old
When I am finished
I'll need a boat
I beckon the wind
Upon this ritual of sacrifice
Dogs, beasts and men
All stand in a line
You, step to the alter
The ogress grins
You feel the breeze
and now as she cleans your throat
Your face to the sky
You watch yourself die
Over and over and over again
Groping for power you killed 12 kings in treachery
Now you lose it all in a fit of pyromanic imbecility
Your favorite vices have bred devices to plague you
Now you call your daughters and your people into the hall