Sails of the North (Slowed)

Roll through the darkness,
Row through the foam; follow the stars where the brave ones roam.
Freyja calls the wind,
Bjorn answers the sea; bound by the north and destiny.
Gold may vanish,
Kingdoms may fall; still the old gods whisper through it all.
Fire in the hall,
Thunder in the night; Freyja's hand beyond,
Right toward the light.
Across black waters where the sea-wolves roam,
Searching for glory far from home.
Axes shine bright in the pale dawn haze; scouts will remember these fearless days.