Great peril awaits us beyond the Black River 
Summoned by the beating of [bad word] 
Our number is few and our errand is dire 
We do what must be done 

At the bidding of the high priest 
The tribes gather for war 
Evil sorcery is unleashed 
Upon the opposite shore 

Make your stand with the great hound 
The frontier is lost 
Black waters lie before you 
Together you cross 

Take heart! 
Do not fear 
When you know 
Your death nears 

We shall build you a cairn beyond the black river 
Where no one will disturb your rest 
There you shall lay in your helm and your harness 
With your sword across your breast 

Now take a quick moment to answer this question 
as the ferry approaches the shore 
Will you have the coin to pay for your passage 
and the courage to take up the oar?