Where the foes come to wreak havoc

On the throes of Aernish law

Here are the doors of the kingdom gates

The Osterark

Standing on the border of the old red west

Between two timeless kings

First upon the line of the Arn's defence

To the last

Praise to the brave souls of the Osterark

We who know no fear

Praise to the lost souls of the Osterark

Never to flee in the face of the enemy

When those curs come to burn and reap

When they march in force

They'll have to meet our mighty keep

At Osterark

A stone wall retreat, ten men deep

A dozen bastion halls

Flags of violet, gold and pleat

The trumpet blasts

We'll be holding firm when the darkness comes

Never we'll flee the day

Lords of old will guard the name

Of Osterark

Blood has stained this land of ours

It reeks of old betrayal

Still we cling to the hills and trees

The grass and sodden bark