Amon Amarth

Ten heavy feet
Walks the bloodsoiled ground
With rhythm these
Five warriors march
No matter how much
The bleeding wounds
From enemy swordcuts
Hurts to the bone
The revenge they sought
Was taken in blood
No mercy was showed
No mercy was showed
They ignore the pain
That hammerlike pounds
From falls, off slain
Horses, to the ground
No signs of weakness
No signs of weariness
Not even a glimce
Of remorse in their eyes
They slew men ruthless
Fed the wolves with flesh