Under roots of stone and fungal crown
The ancient throne is waking now

Beneath the moss, beneath the bark
We waited centuries in dark
Iron bells and human fire
Could not break our buried ire

Drums of bone, the forest sighs
Green flames burn in trollish eyes

Under the moss-crowned throne we rise
From earth and rot to claim the skies
Old blood flows in roots of stone
The world is ours, the king comes home

Granite skin and fungal breath
We feast on fear, we dance with death
Your towers fall, your prayers decay
This realm was ours before your day

Hear the roots, hear the bones
All the dead still guard the throne
Old gods laugh beneath the ground
As your kingdoms crash and drown

Under the moss-crowned throne we stand
Last true kings of rotting land
From forest heart to burning sky
Tonight the age of man must die

When the last light fades from sight
The trolls reclaim eternal night