Fog On The Battlefield

It was said that our race had passed into legend but i´ll 
tell you a story about ancient times
When the ones of my blood stroke with power to defend their
 roots with their life

Early morning awakes the blood-rage and a bastion now rides
 battlewards
Burning eyes watch over the enemy, a spark and the fire 
will start to burn

And the voice of the ancient ones is a message blowing 
winged to be heed
´cause my blood has dwelt here for centuries there will 
always be a "we" and a "they"

Early mourning, sweat and bloodshed rising with the 
battlefield´s fog
One more day of battles and corpses, flesh for the ravens 
fertilize the earth

Stained my face with your blood and pointing down my sword
It´s time to feast and to drink from the horns
But before clean up your ax, Why? For Tomorrow? NO!
(There´s) No tomorrow for us, cold is the wind that blows 
in our hearts
Only the halls of gods are waiting for us