far over the misty mountains cold
to dungeons deep and caverns old
the pines were roaring on the heights
the winds were moaning in the night
the fire was red, it flaming spread
the trees like torches, blazed with light
the mountain smoked beneath the moon
the dwarves, they heard the tramp of doom
they fled the hall to dying fall
beneath his feet, beneath the moon
the sword is sharp, the spear is long
the dwarves no more shall suffer wrong
far over the wood and mountain tall
though wind may blow and rain may fall….
