Far over, the misty mountains cold
To dungeons deep, and caverns old
We must away, ere break of day
To claim our long forgotten gold
The pines were roaring on the height
The winds were moaning in the night
The fire was red, it's flame spread
The trees like torches blazed with light
Far over, the misty mountains grim
To dungeons deep, and caverns dim
We must away, ere break of day
To win our harps and gold from him!
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