In the twilight's last gleaming, west of Marienburg's walls, The ground trembles, the distant horizon calls. Leadbelcher Ogres, with cannons of might, Marching to battle, under the fading light. For glory, for honor, they roar and they bellow, Beastmasters lead the charge, fierce and far from mellow. War bears at their side, eyes ablaze with fight, Together they storm into the encroaching night. Ironclad giants, their steps shake the earth, A force of nature, proving their worth. With every blast, their enemies fall, The Leadbelchers' might, standing tall. Oh, hear the call of the war horn's blow, As they march to the battlefield, their faces aglow. The clash of steel, the cry of the brave, Bound by the oath, the oath that they gave. For glory, for honor, they roar and they bellow, Beastmasters lead the charge, fierce and far from mellow. War bears at their side, eyes ablaze with fight, Together they storm into the encroaching night. When the dawn breaks, and the battle is won, Songs of the Leadbelchers will be sung. For they are the storm, the thunderous might, Ogres and war bears, champions of the fight.
