Far over, The Misty Mountains Cold.
To dungeons deep, and caverns old.
We must away, our break of day, to find our long-forgotten gold.
The pines were roaring on the hight.
The winds were moaning in night.
The fire was red, it flaming spread.
The trees like torches blazed with lights.
We must away, our break of day, to find our long-forgotten gold.
Fire over, Oh Oh Oh Oh...
Oh Oh Oh...
Fire over, Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh...
The Misty Mountais Cold.