The Song of Erebor

Sing with me of Erebor,
the kingdom 'neath the lonely mount,
the falls, the dark and glistering halls
where Thrór sat paramount.

Sing with me of Erebor,
the stronghold hewn in green and gold,
Durin's keep, where riches sleep,
magnificent and cold.

Sing with me of Erebor,
the plunder clutched by blood-red claw
when strew Smaug a seething fog
from twixt his dripping maw.

Sing with me of Erebor,
the mithril splendour of that home
unforgot but ever-sought
while khazâd wend and roam.

'til we claim it back from flame,
ever will we roam.