Forstbitten and stained with blood
 Are the words of peace and love
 The golden cross around your neck
 Speaks of greed and a [bad word] wreck

 All I hear as you preach
 Is blinding fools by threats and leach
 All I see in your hands so wise
 Is our freedom in demise

 There's death in the eyes of the savior, beware of the praise
 There's blood on the hands of the Messiah
 See through the lies of the snake tongue

 We don't need your false salvation
 Or your threats of God's damnation
 Leave us be is its peace you need
 Or feel the wrath of northern seed

 I grasp my hammer of Thor
 To spite your king of a peasant [bad word] 
 The Norse gods is still my creed
 For them I live, for them you'll bleed