Interpret:

Amon Amarth

Album:

Deceiver of the Gods

Racing ‘cross the artic lands 
A mounted legion 
Under my command 
We’re brutal force 
No men can withstand 
Total havoc is at hand


See the black crows circle high 
Waiting for brave men to die 
They sense the coming of the tide 
When opposition’s swept aside


The fateful message 
Reached us months ago 
That our home was under siege 
And since that day 
We’ve been heading north 
Our kinsmen needed our relief


As we near our fortress walls 
Black smoke is rising to the sky 
Burnt black ruins 
Of our father’s halls 
And corpses greet our tired eyes


What madness led them to attack 
Victory could not be won 
They must’ve known 
There was no turning back 
And now they all are gone 


No woman, child or man was spared 
Their bodies lying where they fell 
Suffering, anguish and despair 
As they went through living hell


So now we’re on the ride again 
And vengeance is 
Our newfound path 
We draw our strength 
From grief and pain 
These bastards shall know 
Our endless wrath


See the black crows circle high 
Waiting for brave men to die 
This is the coming of the tide 
When opposition’s swept aside