Miller

Pillaging monasteries and razing churches, striking bare-chested, frostbitten poses on snowy mountain tops. Returning to the village, hacking hunks of burnt ox meat off a spit with my axe and sloshing piss-warm ale out of a clay mug as I heartily sing along to folk songs with my troll breathen after a bloody battle fighting the Christian scourge.

Nature is all

Violate the law of the wild, see her lose her temper
Drink the wine from her stream
Have a time, she's there for thee

You are still the number one
Wilderness, my soul
We may have or lose it all
Respect the wilderness, Respect the life
Save the nature for your unborn child