Where the winds sing
the laments of times long gone
Where the elves dance
their dances of solitude
Hearken to the mountain
can you hear the echoes
of the hammer's beat
from deep within the shadows?

The lord of the blacksmiths
keeps forging on
through the endless time
Master of the anvil
alleys the metals
with an essence of magic

With wisdom and sorcery
from the beginning of time
magnificent works are forged
for gods and for mighty kings [bad word] able shields
power belts and magic rings
Swords that never miss
sceptres and crowns and other things

There is a holy presence
in his hidden existence
Listen to the hymn
it sings in the galleries [bad word] he carves
into the shining steel
to have protection
from the powers of mystery