The hammer of the gods will drive our ships to new lands

To fight the horde, singing and crying:

Valhalla, I am coming!

On we sweep with threshing oar, Our only goal will be the western shore.

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.

On we sweep with threshing oar, Our only goal will be the western shore

So now you'd better stop and rebuild all your ruins

For peace and trust can win the day despite of all your losing.