Den Sista Sorgen
You, the blazing fire
With your golden curls
Just a spark ignite you
Three graves, three sullen worlds
Great kings desired you
For their hearts were cold
Traded rings to trap you
Keep the warmth from all of this world
Sweet dreams of a golden sun
Keeps the night at bay 'til dawn
When we'll rise and weep
For an aging sun
With the full moon over
They returned the keys
Livid crowds had gathered
Bound their arms and clubbed their knees
Thus the kings were branded
Though, their crowns of old
Others rose to bear them
Keep the warmth from all of this world
Writer/s: Lindsay Phillips
