Do you hear the sound of hooves? Here we come, the pack of churls Like a storm, a bloody mess We crush, destroy and violate
Merciless and arrogant Unashamed and insolent Ugly creatures with evil grins No remorse for our sins
The sons of Ixon, we’re heading down from Pellion The taste of blood is leading us toward your home An itch for gain is only thing that makes sense Kill or be killed that’s the name of our game