Does a man have to fight all his life?
Only in death to take flight to the skies
Warmongers vie to take my throne
No respect is ever shown
To Pope, or Prince, nor man, nor beast
And steal our cattle for to feast
No Earthly princeling mind shall take
For scandalous idolatry so fake
In borderland raids
They came in their hordes
Ransacking villages
Taking the spoils
With nothing to lose
and possessions few
Bold
Sturdy
Fearless and cruel!
Defiant of Baptism on pain of death
Tough measures call for me to be ruthless
To set an example to the rebels
Draconian for their worship of devils
How many times did I venture forth
To the extreme wilderness of the north?
To subdue those whose hatred was great
Against churches and priests of our Christian state
Four thousand men all dead in one day
They would not renounce their heathen ways
Thirty years of campaigning consumed
To subject those Pagans to Christianhood
The b***** Verdict of Verden
Rivers flowing red
With the blood of four thousand men
That I did behead
(I shed Blood of Saxon Men)
I shed the Blood of the Saxon men
I shed the Blood of the Saxon men
I shed the Blood of the Saxon men
I shed it at Verden
I shed the Blood of the Saxon men
I shed the Blood of four thousand Saxon men
I shed the Blood of the Saxon men
I shed the Blood of the Saxon man!
Shall my realm be taken as I toil?
To force others out of Frankish soil
And I return to learn that all is lost
Yet my companions I trust, the sword and the Cross
Those good industrious Frankish folk
Who toil out lands with oxen and yoke
Whilst Lombard, Vulgar and Moorish men
Dare to even glance at them
Converting entire tribes by the sword
In the name of Jesus Christo, our Lord
On that day in Verden
No mercy given
Victory to the chosen people
Weary grow I of this task which fell
On the shoulders of a man who yearns to spend
But one hour with wife and child
To gaze on faces innocent and mild
Four thousand men all dead in one day
They would not renounce their heathen ways
Thirty years of campaigning consumed
To subject those pagans to Christianhood
To build a better world than even has been seen
An empire made great by deeds of great kings
(I shed Blood of Saxon Men)
I shed the Blood of the Saxon men
I shed the Blood of the Saxon men
I shed the Blood of the Saxon men
I shed it at Verden
I shed the Blood of the Saxon men
I shed the Blood of four thousand Saxon men
I shed the Blood of the Saxon men
I shed the Blood of the Saxon man!
Only in death to take flight to the skies
Warmongers vie to take my throne
No respect is ever shown
To Pope, or Prince, nor man, nor beast
And steal our cattle for to feast
No Earthly princeling mind shall take
For scandalous idolatry so fake
In borderland raids
They came in their hordes
Ransacking villages
Taking the spoils
With nothing to lose
and possessions few
Bold
Sturdy
Fearless and cruel!
Defiant of Baptism on pain of death
Tough measures call for me to be ruthless
To set an example to the rebels
Draconian for their worship of devils
How many times did I venture forth
To the extreme wilderness of the north?
To subdue those whose hatred was great
Against churches and priests of our Christian state
Four thousand men all dead in one day
They would not renounce their heathen ways
Thirty years of campaigning consumed
To subject those Pagans to Christianhood
The b***** Verdict of Verden
Rivers flowing red
With the blood of four thousand men
That I did behead
(I shed Blood of Saxon Men)
I shed the Blood of the Saxon men
I shed the Blood of the Saxon men
I shed the Blood of the Saxon men
I shed it at Verden
I shed the Blood of the Saxon men
I shed the Blood of four thousand Saxon men
I shed the Blood of the Saxon men
I shed the Blood of the Saxon man!
Shall my realm be taken as I toil?
To force others out of Frankish soil
And I return to learn that all is lost
Yet my companions I trust, the sword and the Cross
Those good industrious Frankish folk
Who toil out lands with oxen and yoke
Whilst Lombard, Vulgar and Moorish men
Dare to even glance at them
Converting entire tribes by the sword
In the name of Jesus Christo, our Lord
On that day in Verden
No mercy given
Victory to the chosen people
Weary grow I of this task which fell
On the shoulders of a man who yearns to spend
But one hour with wife and child
To gaze on faces innocent and mild
Four thousand men all dead in one day
They would not renounce their heathen ways
Thirty years of campaigning consumed
To subject those pagans to Christianhood
To build a better world than even has been seen
An empire made great by deeds of great kings
(I shed Blood of Saxon Men)
I shed the Blood of the Saxon men
I shed the Blood of the Saxon men
I shed the Blood of the Saxon men
I shed it at Verden
I shed the Blood of the Saxon men
I shed the Blood of four thousand Saxon men
I shed the Blood of the Saxon men
I shed the Blood of the Saxon man!