by Soriana » 12/19/2010 11:36 PM
A pig swig!
A nobleman made out of a sought-after mineral.
(I was thinking that, too--in fact, that's how I figured I'd throw people off the scent.)
The King beneath the mountains,
The King of carven stone,
The lord of silver fountains
Shall come into his own!
His crown shall be upholden,
His harp shall be restrung,
His halls shall echo golden
To songs of yore re-sung.
The streams shall run in gladness,
The lakes shall shine and burn,
All sorrow fail and sadness
At the Mountain-king's return!one two three four five