Warhellride Lyrics

A mournful horn sounds a deathly call A lone ship sails back to the fjords I know my father dines in Odin's hall Feasting above with heroes of old

Borne from the ship and carried high His face as white as the snow Sword-wounds cleaned and dried Four men bear his body. His bearded face is calm and proud

His jaw is firm and eyes open wide His warriors hold his body high still and cold. Still and cold!

On his chest his ancient sword Gleaming even under the clouds Taken long ago from dragon's hoard. Plundered from the ancient caves.

His sea-steed is pushed off from the sand Flaming, into the salty brine. The ravens circle overhead Calling out their croaking cry. The smoke coils up into the snowy clouds Blowing back to our ancestral shores Where I stand holding my fathers sword. My ancient sword!
The ships once again prepare to sail The men have stocked with weapons of war Axes and shields, helms and spears And me with my ancestral blade.

We will sail to the lands of our foes Right to the place where my father fell And for his death we'll make them pay, Send triple our number down to Hell. Gather steel and raise your head Let forth your battle yell And come my brothers, join us On this warhellride! Warhellride!

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