Fields In Flames
They rodeThose two hundred menNarrow roadsThrough this dark cold land
They burnt all villagesThey raped and destroyedTook gold, silber and coins
Taxes to King was their missionBut pain and sorrow they left behindThey drank all boozeThey stole and killedFields in Flames andFamilies without homes
Men with their golden swordsHorses' armoured headsIron harassed hardBlades of weapons slashedIn silence the village lie downHearts bleeding morbid sorrow
One man of these men of the deathOne man, broke downDown he went with insanityDown man, lunatic
He lit the fire under the houseYou could only see his feetHe burnt away his insanityBurnt away those memories