We come from the land of the ice and snow, From the midnight sun where the hot springs blow. How soft your fields so green, can whisper tales of gore, Of how we calmed the tides of war. We are your overlords.
We come from the land of the ice and snow, From the midnight sun where the hot springs blow. How soft your fields so green, can whisper tales of gore, Of how we calmed the tides of war. We are your overlords.