[SFX: Battle ship drum beats, horn sounds in teh distance] [Beating drums, dull, repetitive, slow and echoing] [call] Hark! What do you follow?! [awnser, group chanting] We see the banner! [call] Water! Where do you go?! [awnser, group chanting] We sail to war! . [call] Land! What is there above you?! [awnser, group chanting] Raven's circle! . [Chorus] [call] Many go, but few return, [awnser, group chanting] Many hearts to embers burn, [Group chanting to drums only] Fare thee well, oh land so fair, Death shall choose who sees thee there. [Verse 1] Hark! The steel-clad host doth ride, O’er the mist-wreathed mountain’s side, Shields aloft in grim array, To the reaping of the fray. Soft the hearth-smoke curls behind, Sweet the mead-hall’s laughter kind, Yet the raven’s call is loud, Singing doom beneath the cloud." [Chorus] [call] Many go, but few return, [awnser, group chanting] Many hearts to embers burn, [Group chanting to drums only] Fare thee well, oh land so fair, Death shall choose who sees thee there. [Verse 2] "Think ye now on maidens fair, Braided gold in flowing hair, Think ye now on harvest’s yield, Now on babes in furrow’s field. Steel shall bite, and blood shall run, Ere the setting of the sun, None may know whose fate is spun, By the Norns ere day is done." [Chorus] [call] Many go, but few return, [awnser, group chanting] Many hearts to embers burn, [Group chanting to drums only] Fare thee well, oh land so fair, Death shall choose who sees thee there. [call] Hark! What do you follow?! [awnser, group chanting] We see the banner! [call] Sea! Where do you go?! [awnser, group chanting] We sail to war! . [call] Land! What is there above you?! [awnser, group chanting] Raven's circle! [Verse 3] Hark! The war-horn’s mournful cry, Echoes ‘neath the ashen sky, Spears shall break, and helms shall crack, None may turn the battle back. Odin’s eye now glows afar, Valkyries wake the dying star, We who march to meet our doom, Pray but for a worthy tomb." [Final Chorus, group chanting to sounds of crows] Many go, but few return, All our pyres to embers burn, Fare thee well, oh life so dear, HAnd of death is drawing near.
