In the Battlefield - Doomsword

Dust clouds arise from the english ground

The smell of blood pierces the brain

Running in charge towards the castle walls

I hear my heart beat down in my throat

I know the Battle joy!

As my sweat drops into my eyes

A rain of arrows whistlles in the sky

This icy air freezes our blades

And wet our beards with a morning rain

Blood, it’s on my face!

Odin guide my sword!

As some vikings bolts pierce the walls

We bring the ram towards the gate

Warriors proudly die under english fire

Tha ram claims for its path of death

Thunderous is the crack!

I awaited for this glorious moment

I can now enter the fortress crying the charge

My axe cuts some english heads

While the city of Jorvik cries its swansong

Captured is the king!

Odin guide my sword!