The harsch biting winternight
Embrace everything in this silent land
A lonely man is wandering through the snow
With a wooden staff in his hand
Dressed in old torn grey rags
He tries to keep himself warm
The icy white long beard
Dances in the hard winterstorm
His hands which once wielded the steel
Can now barely raise his horn
Patiently he's searching from house to house
For a meal and a roof over his head
From the frozen plains he comes
On a journey without destination
Once a hero- now forgotten
On the edge of death by chill and starvation
From the frozen plains he comes
And to the frozen plains he goes
He gained his pride throughout the wars
Of the knights he was the best
He risked his life for his king and queen
Of all the heroes he was the bravest
From the frozen plains he comes
And to the frozen plains he goes
