A land born of a Nordic tribe
Long ago our fore fathers arrived
To live with the wind, walk the fires
Sent by the gods to please their desires
Long ago our fore fathers arrived
To live with the wind, walk the fires
Sent by the gods to please their desires
The snow was gently falling
A white mist filled the air
I hear mid-winter calling
And its calling for me
Calling for me
As I swing my sword in the wind
I feel the powers it brings within
Having it with me all my life
My son can you hear the wolves cry
Can you hear the wolves cry
Now I pass it to you my son
What was given to me that stormy night
I feel the breeze come in cold
Now I'm ready, please guide me home
Please guide me home
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