I move where I wish, for I yearn to be free.

I will not profit unduly, lest profit is due me.

I will not enslave any, but him that bears chains.

I will not kill to further an oligarch’s aims.

I am not a number to pad out a check-book.

I am not a mint, to line the purse of a crook.

I am not an alien; I drop where I’ve sown.

I am not a profligate, I eschew, not condone.

Come pestilence to those who take virtue unearned.

Come love to my brothers who the fatherland spurned.

Yet whilst honour is godless, and God may be dead,

I will live for my kin, through my fists, through my head.

I am parasite to none, but that which would predate.

I am murderer to none, but that which would murder in hate.

I am brigand to none, but those that would take my life.

I am a patriot to my fatherland, in peacetime, in strife.

And though I may not live to see
The glow of Gram
sunder, till
The starways of Niflheim
burn Muspelheim bright,
Yet I’ll live in benediction
To the ancestral plight,
That speaks no valediction,
But bears my arms, my fight,
Till my lungs are spent
And my blood broils thin,
I am a child of the Liga.
And can do no sin.