In the depths of the mountains,
Mike,
where darkness reigns, where fire's ignite,
Lies the realm of the Tormund King,
porting legends in the caverns within.

When hammers strong and hearts of stone,
they toil and fight, they stand alone.

In the halls of stone, their vales scenes,
as they forge their fates beneath the mountain gates.

Forge of iron, forge of steel,
in the forge of faith,
bone and meal.

With backs is sharpened,
armor bright,
and march into the eternal fight.

From ancient mines,
their treasures lean,
in veins of silver,
gold and green.

With beards of fire and eyes of oar,
they call the saga forevermore.

When hammers strong and hearts of stone,
they toil and fight, they stand alone.

In the halls of stone, their vales scenes,
as they forge their fates beneath the mountain gates.

Forge of iron, forge of steel,
in the forge of faith, bone and meal.

With backs is sharpened,
armor bright,
and march into the eternal fight.

Eternal fight.

Caverns deep, they'll roam and roam,
in search of glory,
in search of home.

With songs of old and tales untold,
they'll carve their legend in the stone.

Forge of iron, forge of steel,
in the forge of faith, bone and meal.

With backs is sharpened,
armor bright,
and march into the eternal fight.

Eternal fight.

In the arms of the mountain,
the forever dwell.

In the fiery depths,
the legend swell.

For some night,
we'll go to war