(Verse 1) Upon the Throat of the World so high, Where winds of Kyne in whispers sigh, The Greybeards call, in voices deep, A song of wisdom, old and steep. (Chorus) Fus, Ro, Dah—let thunder sound, Echoing through the frozen ground. With breath of time, with words untold, The dragon’s tongue, both fierce and old. (Verse 2) Silent monks in robes of grey, Watch the stars and skies obey. Masters of the thu’um so pure, Guardians wise, both strong and sure. (Chorus) Fus, Ro, Dah—let thunder sound, Echoing through the frozen ground. With breath of time, with words untold, The dragon’s tongue, both fierce and old. (Bridge) Not for war, nor greed, nor pain, But balance kept and peace maintained. The Voice, a gift, not sword nor chain, A power held with wise refrain. (Outro) So heed the call upon the peak, Where whispers old and ancient speak. The Greybeards stand, the world they see, Guiding fate with prophecy.
