Celebration Of Our Victory کے بول

Torn and bloody our clothes they are As we march home from a battle afar Victorious we were, the raven's were with us A glorious triumph was reached by dusk We drink our mead in the light of the funeral pyre Just as the flames, our cups are raised higher and higher We drink to our brothers who in this battle have fallen We hail thee, whom the god's have callen Back in the village my woman awaits me The fairest of women with a flaming desire Her grace is to be seen by none but me My scarred heart is burning like fire Tonight is the night of viking's celebration A celebration of our glorious victory A victory that was surely not our first And certainly not the last