Harbinger of death
On the road to Valhalla,
Tall on stallions of silver,
Eternity you shall deliver.

Golden wings and iron fists
Shake the heavens, strike the earth.
Saints or sinners, blessed or cursed,
Our fates written in reverse.

(You have shown us how to fly,
Have you come to take us all to die?)

Chooser of the slain,
Cruel justice be your guide.
You have fire in your eyes,  
Burning brighter in our cries.

(Your wings aren't silver but are gold,
Have you come to turn us cold?)