壊神の拳が届く場所 - The Measure Of His Reach

O come ye wayward brothers
Bereft of hearth and home
Beneath yon burning star there lies
A haven for the bold

Raise up your hands and voices
Let fill your hearts with pride
Above the churning waters we
Stand strong and unified

We blessed few, born from blood
With tired hands do toil
To shape this rugged land of ours
And build a home for all

Beyond the silent watchmen
Upon the great loch's shore
Now stands a mighty citadel
Our rock forevermore

To ye who help your brothers
Shrink not from Rhalgr's flame
But those who scorn their fellow man
Shall surely share his pain

Though storms of blood approach ye
Hells open, Heavens weep
No goodly soul need ever fear
The measure of His Reach