Ah, ah,

We come from the land of the ice and snow,

From the midnight sun where the hot springs blow.


The hammer of the gods will drive our ships to
new lands,

To fight the horde, singing and crying: Valhalla,
I am coming!

On we sweep with threshing oar, Our only goal
will be the western shore.

Ah, ah,

We come from the land of the ice and snow,

From the midnight sun where the hot springs blow.


How soft your fields so green, can whisper tales
of gore,

Of how we calmed the tides of war. We are your
overlords.

On we sweep with threshing oar, Our only goal
will be the western shore.

So now you'd better stop and rebuild all your
ruins,

For peace and trust can win the day despite of
all your losing.