Misty Mountains (feat. Tim Foust)

Far over the Misty Mountains cold, To dungeons deep and caverns old. We must away, ere break of day, To find our long forgotten gold. The pines were roaring on the height, The winds were moaning in the night. The fire was red, it flaming spread; The trees like torches blazed with light. The wind was on the withered heath, But in the forest stirred no leaf. There shadows lay be night or day, And dark things silent crept beneath. (Aaaahh aaahh...) The wind went on from West to East; All movement in the forest ceased, But shrill and harsh across the marsh; Its whistling voices were released. Farewell! we call to hearth and hall. Though wind may blow and rain may fall, We must away ere break of day, Far o'er the wood and mountain tall.