Hero's Heart

Far beyond the trees I can see only wretched fools destiny
The elder ways are gone from their blood, forgotten
And in my dreams I die with my weapon drawn
To slay beside my brothers where I belong
As our weapons splatter worthless blood.

In bitterness alone, I grow old atop this hill of stone
The triumphs of my kind will live on when I'm gone
In my dreams, I die with my weapons drawn
To leave this world by the ways that I uphold
And ascend to halls of pure gold.

Bravest of slaves and the great Pagan lords
I will raise my sword to the proud and pure
Bravest of slaves and the great Pagan lords
I will raise my sword to the proud and pure.

Warriors!

With my bloody wounds and foolish heart
By slaughter-wolves, they're torn apart
The butchering, unworthy kind
Peace to the storm in my mind
From the hill, beyond the trees, came a man of victory
His eyes were old, he raised his sword
Bravery in eyes of the bold.

And on this day, he dies with his weapons drawn
Granting glory to his old hero's heart!

Bravest of slaves and the great Pagan lords
I will raise my sword to the proud and pure
Bravest of slaves and the great Pagan lords
I will raise my sword to the proud and pure.