On Sepros he sits,
Orian's master and king,
his voice shatters wits,
and makes our folk sing.

Oh, can't you see folks,
he is our Bentre,
his very presence invokes,
comfort and carefree

He is our Overlord,
our Master, our king,
he leads us forward,
his praises we sing

he united our people,
he slayed our invaders,
though he is not so peaceful,
we do not suffer the raiders.

He rules with a fist,
not kindness or joy,
thus these words we will list,
so with us he won't toy.

He is our Overlord,
our Master, our king,
he leads us forward,
his praises we sing