'Cross the fields of ripening grain
The reavers laid to waste
Screams of farmers, boyhood stories,
Bitter is the taste...
Of iron, cold iron, in the hands on unjust men.
Of iron, cold iron, in the hands on unjust men.

Rode they through the helpless ville
Blood on every blade
Laughter in each bearded face,
At the carnage they'd made...
With iron, cold iron, in the hands of unjust men.
With iron, cold iron, in the hands of unjust men.

Call your troops to war my friends
Take those that you trust
We must cleanse the lands of those,
Who profane the things they touch...
With iron, cold iron, in the hands of unjust men.
With iron, cold iron, in the hands of unjust men.

We ride the morn at dawn's first break
It's here we'll make our stand
Righteous men must stand as one,
When evil walks the land...
And there's iron, cold iron, in the hands of unjust men.
And there's iron, cold iron, in the hands of unjust men.

Peace is bought with life's sweet blood
Let all your children hear
That they must learn the ways of war,
Or ever more will fear...
The iron, cold iron, in the hands of unjust men.
The iron, cold iron, in the hands of unjust men.