Battle Field

Thunder, power, tearing the sky
Tasty and sweet like the finest wine
Light his muscles made of stone
By the wind his long hair is blown
(He's an eagle flying home)

His eyes are cold (He's not afraid)
If they want him (He's ready to fight)

Rain baptise their chest
Each stroke is anguish of power
Fear around the land
Without thinking he unsheathes his sword
(All the power is blood)

Tempest brings violence at night
Come and salute the son of the dark
Warrior, conqueror, wrath of the gods
Sweat, rage, they're prepared to dance
(He's the king of north)

His eyes are cold (He's not afraid)
If they want him (He's ready to fight)

Rain baptise their chest
Each stroke is anguish of power
Fear around the land
Without thinking he unsheathes his sword
(All the power is blood)