VALHALLA CALLING (Slowed)

Let the whole world know.
Calling me home where the old gods stand,
Through the storm and the blood-red sand.
When the sky falls down and the rivers run slow,
Hear my name in the winter snow.
Yeah, run through the storm with a heart that's cold,
Fire in the soul, never doing what I'm told.
Raised in the North with the warriors' glow,
Blood on the shield when the battle horns blow.