Far over the Misty Mountains cold
To dungeons deep and caverns old
We must awai, ere break of day,
To find our long forgotten gold.
The pines were roaring on the height,
The winds were moaning in the night.
The fire was red, it flaming spread;
The trees like torches blazed with light.
M-m-m...
Far over the Misty Mountains cold
To dungeons deep and caverns old
We must awai, ere break of day,
To find our long forgotten gold.
The pines were roaring on the height,
The winds were moaning in the night.
The fire was red, it flaming spread;
The trees like torches blazed with light.
