| Alone outside his village, a young man hunts with crafted bow
|
| His tribe would surely banish him, if they ever were to know
|
| The elders had taught him, even in times of peril
|
| Never raise arms against any of nature’s creatures
|
| Or you could wake the giants, the Mountain Giants
|
| One the other side of the valley, a rival clan prepares for war
|
| The counsel and their tall tales would be no match for the mighty sword
|
| In the hands of savages
|
| How could they protect their homes?
|
| An old man spoke, «Nature will awaken the giants as she did in the days of old»
|
| The archers and warriors drew closer with every breath
|
| The people of the village were sure to meet their deaths
|
| Then rocks and earth did tremble, and with a shield splitting sound
|
| The mountains rose to the air trampling the armies to the ground
|
| They had awakened the giants, the Mountain Giants
|
| The hills have all been resting for generations gone by
|
| Now the old man tells stories about hunting as a child
|
| And how he saw the giants, the Mountain Giants, oh yes the giants… |