I walk down the corridor
I descend the dark aisle
The wooden planks creak under my feet
But the rug from the orient softens it
Down at the basement I gather my gear
With chalk I draw and with my palm I smear
Envision a candle-lit cave
With Helm of Awe as floor and ceiling
Coming back up, I open the doors
stepping forward to the balcony
Miles and miles, and miles away
as far as the eye can see
Mid-gray atmosphere, with brownish hues
Artistic masterpiece, beginning to bloom
Fold to black, where shadows exist
Turns to gloom, where light persists
I only know this cannot be true
what's behind it all I cannot recall
I fully memorize this view
and paint it over with silver and blue
Begin my Galdor by whispering
Then creak and shout, blazing out three words
I let the wind take them further away
Down the tower and through the plains
Cho:
Unknown dark horizons
Untold and hidden blazons
The book of power – that deceives the eye!