A desolate aeon has passed since the demise of our crown  A tragic end which made hecates and predictors wail  But dragons still sleep tranquil in proud heathen hearts    At first they came wearing their most innocent masques  Telling vikings vague stories about a nazarene whelp  While keeping their swords drawn behind their backs    Storms of Asgard  Engulf the unfaithful  Storms of Asgard  Reclaim your throne    They spread their odius thorns all over northern soil  Some unfaithful sheeps swore allegiance to them  But some rather died  Their craving and megalomania became too much  Raping northern soil before pagan eyes spawned hate  There where great battles but the outcome were not    The pagans volcanic wrath is still alive in our hearts  And the white veil which still covers us  Will be torn apart