INVICTUS - Standing At The Gates Of Death

There he stands, brave keeper of the bridge Standing ground on the wooden plank and hinge No mail, no armor, just fury and steel No time to prepare, the danger is real He's ready to spread terror and take every breath Willing to meet a glorious inevitable death The Norse berserker, the one-man shield wall Odinn's might within, gods never fall His Dane Axe cleaving steel, splitting shields Protector of the sword-age never yields Unbroken, unbowed martyr of the North Drenched in Saxon blood, they fear to come forth Swords and arrows he deals with scorn One man, one axe, a legend is born Standing at the gates of Death Fighting till his final breath The wooden bridge he holds alone Immortality is now his own But the Saxons can't match the norseman's pride They strike from below, in shadows they hide A rat in the barrel strikes with a spear A coward's blow to toss away fear No one can take away glory from the frenzy beast Valhalla is now waiting for a marvelous feast Swords and arrows he deals with scorn One man, one axe, a legend is born Standing at the gates of Death Fighting till his final breath The wooden bridge he holds alone Immortality is now his own Standing at the gates of Death Fighting till his final breath The wooden bridge he holds alone Immortality is now his own