Odin, All-Father, hear our call, Gather the brave to the golden hall. Valhalla! Valhalla!

The longship cuts through the frozen tide, With iron hearts and nowhere to hide. The northern lights paint the velvet sky, We live for the battle, we’re not afraid to die. The salt on our skin, the frost in our breath, Dancing on the edge of a glorious death.

Valhalla, where the warriors rise, Under the gaze of the raven’s eyes. Valhalla, where the mead flows free, Across the bridge of the burning sea. Raise your shields to the thunder’s sound, Where the fallen kings are finally crowned.

The Valkyries descend on wings of light, To claim the souls in the heat of the fight. No sorrow here, only songs of old, Of heroes carved in the stories told. The rhythm of the earth, the beat of the drum, The afterlife waits for the ones who have come.

Valhalla, where the warriors rise, Under the gaze of the raven’s eyes. Valhalla, where the mead flows free, Across the bridge of the burning sea. Raise your shields to the thunder’s sound, Where the fallen kings are finally crowned.

The Einherjar train in the endless field, With broken sword and battered shield. They feast at night when the sun goes down, In the golden halls of the master’s town. The bassline thumps like a heartbeat strong, We’ve waited for this for a lifetime long.

Skål to the gods of the ancient north, From the ashes of fire, we venture forth. Valhalla... Valhalla...

The cycle turns like the spinning wheel, Forged in fire and tempered in steel. We leave the world of the mortal man, To join the ranks of the chosen clan. The music fades into the mist of time, A legacy written in rhythm and rhyme.

Valhalla calls... Valhalla waits... Home at last.