In the dark forest, beyond the lying mankind Where glittern streams run over moss covered stones In forgotten gaves where powerful secrets rest That's where the lord of the heathens is waiting for the day Of retaliation Lors of the heathens from the dark forest When fog covers the land, when the nights are moonless and cold He'll stan in the middle of the grave - hills and he'll swing his old sword The holy sword of the heathens, which sound will sing him crazy In such nights the animals will hide, the dishounourable will forsee their death The trees then sing him odd and sascination melodies There are ancient entreaties, runic and elf magic His enes glow in the blue fire, with the promise to kill the fools The wind carries his oath out of the forests - you can also hear him!