As I walk in the shadow of my people, I see only by this line
And I never turn or look away from this legacy I accept as mine
I look to the elder and see pride and loyalty
To you these words have no meaning, but these words still breathe life to me

By the beauty of Freya, by the mighty hand of Thor
We are Wotan’s Volk

We heed the faith of the northern people and the godhead of three sons
Born of ice, the son of the new gods creation’s heroes of olden blood
I look to the legends of heroes, devoid of geography
As generations fade away, we remember as clear as day