Come, gather round and hear me mourn
the night is young, the day's not born.
The Wall is far, the fire's warm
and here we are...
Once upon the darkest days there was a daring king,
his name was Ronan, son of Rob, the lord that rode like wind,
he had a son of heart of love and a mouth that spoke the truth,
and caring wife with hair of gold and lived upon the hill.
This was the king who won the war before the Wall was built,
who fought the vicious of them all and brought the peace back here.
Hear me sing of braver days.
Would you remember them if wasn't I to tell?
And so the Golden Age began before the Shadow fell,
for it was not too long they found his mind has gone away.
But he was mighty, he was strong so noone rose their voice.
Oh, who can tell what pain they felt for all the things he caused?!
He said : All magic's vile, impure and all its people - foul
so I, the king, demand - they shall be caught and send to hell.
Hear me sing of doeful days.
Would you forget them if I didn't tell?
And so began the Witches' Hunt that doomed the peaceful lands.
Oh, how the sorrow poured upon the young, the sweet, the wise!
It's said two thousand twenty two were bound to burn and die,
The King Who Found the peace became The King who lost his mind.
His wife, the maiden of the hill, she cried her heart away,
with no more oceans left inside she craved the mighty blade...
Hear me sing of darkest days.
Would you mourn with me today?
But came a time his son grew up, became a worthy knight,
he saw the horror all around and said: This shall not be!
He stood against the moody king and stroke him down the throne.
"Your grace, you're blood of my own blood, but with your reign is done."
Oh, seven gods in turquoise skies, the Darkest Age was vast,
but now the lands are left in peace and hope that it will last...
Hear me sing of glory days.
Would you praise them if wasn't I to tell?