| The wide green and windy valley’s wood,
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| the high dark ice veiled mountain
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| With the silent mystic castle walls
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| are now showing their lament
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| The sad magic dance of my white elves…
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| sing to mark the past of hero
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| Sing to cry his tragic destiny,
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| and to lead him on his way
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| WHILE THE THE FIRE BURNS AND THEIR HANDS NOW RISE
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| TO THE CRYSTAL SKY FOR THE WARRIOR’S PRIDE
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| MAY THE MIGHTY KING RIDE THE WIND OF DREAMS
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| BREATH IN OUR TREES FREEING US FROM SIN
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| On the golden throne of Irekan
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| she is fighting back her tears
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| Her sad future so without her king
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| will be too hard to endure
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| Now the valiant knights of twilight come all
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| from the farest midlands
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| 'cause the songs of jester reached their crown
|
| and so now they come for him
|
| WHILE THE THE FIRE BURNS AND THEIR HANDS NOW RISE
|
| TO THE CRYSTAL SKY FOR THE WARRIOR’S PRIDE
|
| MAY THE MIGHTY KING RIDE THE WIND OF DREAMS
|
| BREATH IN OUR TREES FREEING US FROM SIN |