The Wasteland

Before the last of trees shall fall,
A wasteland, once where halls grew tall;
On fields where crops no longer grow,
Famine stalks the land - and woe!

Before all rivers poisoned by
Those fools of men who cheat and lie;
'Fore seas that hold no more of life,
Conflicts, wars, revolts and strife.

Before the last of fish is caught,
When all your plans have come to nought;
One World! One Race! See how you cheat,
Your money then you cannot eat.

A world in ruin, falling fast,
O how the years are rolling past;
The Hallowed One then shall arise,
When lightning fills the Northern Skies.

The hour has come, they'll rue the day
The sought to take our land away;
There'll be no place for them to hide,
When The Hooded Man shall ride.

Mounted on the snow-white horse,
Steers his folk back on their course;
A-Wake! Ye English - now's your hour
See the traitors flee and cower!

Gather now the Knights of Old,
Warriors of Woden, bold;
Around the Graal of Sacred Blood,
This land shall fall by Fire and Flood!

Albion - the wasteland now,
The hour has come to pledge our vow;
To save our land from alien foe,
Our Folk to break the yoke of woe.

The final war on Middle-Earth,
A New World then is given birth;
A New Man rising from the ashes,
Across the land the water lashes.

By Fire and Sword this land be purged,
By our Gods our Folk are urged;
To forge the Broken Sword once more,
And save this land by Holy War.


Wulf Ingessunu