A cold wind is blowing of the steppes The crash of thousand hoofs resounds Around the edge cloud of dust The ground is shaking under the deadly march
Nomad warriors hiding across europe Crushing the resistance with their sharp blades Rains of arrows decimate their enemies Rise of an empire fall of many others
A cold wind is blowing of the steppes The crash of thousand hoofs resounds
Their crimson banner floats in the air Bringing ruins and havoc The simple sight of their dark helmets Turns the bravest soldier into a fucking coward
