Germanic Fren - Iron Giants Ride

Through the mists of the northern lands, they ride,
Clad in steel, on their warhorses they stride.
Echoes of battle, under iron skies,
Where the sound of metal never dies.

Iron giants ride, through the storm and fire,
Tempered blades of the ancient sire.
In the heart of darkness, their oaths they bide,
For honor and glory, iron giants ride.

Shields raised against the howling wind,
Swords clash as their tales begin.
Through the frozen forests, their banners wave,
Brave souls marching to the grave.

Iron giants ride, through the storm and fire,
Tempered blades of the ancient sire.
In the heart of darkness, their oaths they bide,
For honor and glory, iron giants ride.

In the silence of the snow, whispers speak of fate,
Teutonic knights, in their steel, embrace the hate.
Their eyes on the horizon, where enemies hide,
With every thunderous step - they are the Teutons.

Beneath the stars, their mail shines bright,
Like specters wrought from the darkest night.
They hold the line, in the age-old fight,
Teutonic might, in the dead of night.

Iron giants ride, through the storm and fire,
Tempered blades of the ancient sire.
In the heart of darkness, their oaths they honor
and glory, iron giants ride.

Iron Giants Ride!

Iron Giants Ride!