Lyrics
The boy of fourteen walks the ancient stone,
He holds a pale white bow of dragon bone.
Two daggers hang, a glowing green and blue,
To cut the shadowed water shining through.
The flowing stream is thick with dirty bronze,
It smells of metal in the curving ponds.
His dragon family is weak and still,
The fire in their throats is thin and ill.
He brought the Last Fire to the mountain's door,
Now he must fight to heal his home once more.
Down in the deep where poisoned waters lie,
He will not let his dragon family die!
He brings the silver water from beneath,
To heal the hearth so the den still breathes!
The white bone bow is awkward in the cave,
He shoots short arrows through the splashing wave.
He draws his daggers, glowing green and blue,
To cut the pale and poisoned wyrms in two.
He drags a giant carcass from the bowl,
Until the silver water rises whole.
He fills the empty, swinging leather skins,
And climbs to where the ancient den begins.
He kneels beside each heavy, sleeping head,
And lets them drink the mountain's silver thread.
A slow breath rises from the quiet cold,
The fire wakes, as in the days of old.
He brought the Last Fire to the mountain's door,
Now he must fight to heal his home once more.
Down in the deep where poisoned waters lie,
He will not let his dragon family die!
He brings the silver water from beneath,
To heal the hearth so the den still breathes!
The bronze is gone, the water clear and bright...
The den still breathes tonight.