Lurking in a kingdom.
Trying to stay unseen,
A trembling troll wonders behind the scene.
Searching for a treasure,
On the day a baby is born.
Chorus
Golden in the sun, silver in the moon.
The willow will grow soon.
The power rushing through its roots,
Gives life to the owl’s hoot.
Eighteen moons away.
Sounds from the horn.
Cheers and cries,
Ripple across the skies.
Forming a plan,
The troll ran.
Chorus
Eighteen moons pass,
Leaving age in the grass.
The baby is now a man,
And the troll no longer ran.
What was the trolls plan?
Chorus
A sword and a stone,
Conjured for the throne.
The troll planted clues,
For the new king to choose.
The time is near with a settling fear.
Chorus
The new king arrives, seeing others strive.
Parting the crowd, with his handsome brow,
He steps to the stone and claims his throne.
A new king has been named.
Soon people will want him to be maimed.
Chorus
Arthur now stands tall
In front of us all.
The troll remains unseen behind the scene.
His final deed is done,
Now he must run.
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