Mistreat Heritage
A land born of a Nordic tribe-Long ago our fore fathers
arrived to live with the wind, walk the fire, sent by the
gods to please their desires! The snow was gently
falling, a white mist filled the air! I hear mid-winter
calling and its calling for me! Calling for me!
As I swing my sword in the wind I feel the powers it
brings within! Having it with me all my life-My son can
you hear the wolves cry? Can you hear the wolves cry?
Now I pass it to you my son, what was given to me that
stormy night! I feel the breeze come in cold-Now I’m
ready, please guide me home! Please guide me home!