I sing a song of Elder Days, when the world was young;
Where men made towers, shining bright, in the glory of the Sun.
The Sun symbolized liberty, the East Wind whispered freedom;
All races lived in harmony on the Isle of Jomadon.
This was long before we fell from grace,
Long before we hid our faces
From the Light.
Thus it was in the First Age: we reveled in the spirit
Of love and peace in the arms of our land.
I sing a song of Elder Days, when the stain was young;
Where men made war upon themselves, in the glory of their strength.
The elves retreated into the woods, the dwarves under the mountains;
The halflings fled into the hills, and the peaceful hid behind their walls.
This was still before we fell from grace,
Still before we hid our faces
From the Light.
Thus it was in the Second Age: we reveled in the spirit;
We turned our hands to bloodshed and we stained this Virgin Land.
I sing a song of Elder Days, when the Prince did come; He rode the tide of a southern storm, from whence the ill wind blew.
He raised an army of the Dead to sweep up upon us;
Helpless, we fought in vain and died where we stood.
It was then that we fell from grace,
Then that we hid our faces
From the Light.
The Isle cried in agony, beneath the heel of the Conqueror;
The Prince stood tall in all his glory:
Darkness would soon have everything . . .
But from the north there came the sound of trumpets singing;
The Prince looked up and saw his doom on the faces of the Heroes.
For at their back rode the Army of Freedom's Alliance:
The last great ride of Elves and Men to rid their land of his stain.
It was then that our chains were broken,
Then that we gave our hearts
To the Light.
Thus it was in the Third Age: the Prince of Darkness came;
But the Heroes saved us from ourselves and threw down His reign.
I sing a song of Modern Days: the future's before us;
It's in our hands to choose the world that our children will have . . .