With apologies to Neil Finn

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A song of Markarth, sung by elder Forsworn shamans about the day they will re-take their ancestral holy city

 

Far over the Druadach Mountains rise
Leave us standing upon the heights
What was before, we see once more
Our kingdom a distant light

Icy mountain beneath the moon
The words unspoken, we'll be there soon
For home a song that echoes on
And all who find us will know the tune

Some folk we never forget
Some kind we never forgive
Haven't seen the back of us yet
We'll fight as long as we live

All eyes on the dwarven doors
To the Holy Mountain borne
We'll ride in the gathering storm
Until we get our long-forgotten home

We lay under the Druadach Mountains cold
In slumbers deep and dreams untold

We must awake, Nord lives to take
And in the darkness a torch we hold

From long ago when bonfires burned
Till this day our hearts have yearned
Her fate unknown, City of Stone
What was stolen must be returned

We must awake and make the day
To find a song for heart and soul

Some folk we never forget
Some kind we never forgive
Haven't seen the end of it yet
We'll fight as long as we live

All eyes on the dwarven doors
To the Holy Mountain borne
We'll ride in the gathering storm
To get our long-forgotten home

Far away from Druadach Mountains cold