[Start] [intro: Low strings and French horn and distant military drum.] This realm doth limp from gate to gate Though still it stands in name and state The lamps burn low. The granaries thin. Men bar their doors and bolt within. [verse: Stately and formal and clearly Frog’s first entrance.] In six hundredth year of fear and rain The soil remembers grief and stain The court keeps form. The chapel prays. Yet dread lies thick on all our days. Each mother starts at every cry Each soldier marks the blackened sky The banners hang, but none may say What ill thing yet draws near our way [pre-chorus: Intimate confession with archaic phrasing.] And I Who swore mine arm and swore my name Stand less than what I was by shame [chorus: Broad and singable and memorable.] I am the blade that failed its lord I am the hand that missed the sword So set this burden where I stand And let it cleave to heart and hand Ohh... Till right be raised and wrong laid low I shall not from my vigil go Though all men leave and none remain I’ll keep this bruised realm in the rain [verse: Arrival of Crono and Marle with the Leene confusion.] Then through the mire there came three souls No trumpet called them to these roles A silent boy with steadfast eyes A maid in whom old likeness lies One look, and straight the town bent knee As though Queen Leene herself they’d see But want makes haste where truth walks slow And frightened hearts clutch first they know [pre-chorus: Frog recognizes the danger.] For crowns Are more than visage, voice, or grace And fear will crown the nearest face [chorus: Same core hook, slightly sharpened.] I am the blade that failed its lord I am the hand that missed the sword So set this burden where I stand And let it cleave to heart and hand Yeahhh... If this be false, yet hope runs wild Then danger hunts both queen and child I’ll walk with these new-fallen stars And spend in deed what honor mars [bridge: Cyrus memory, the deepest cut.] There was a knight I called my sun Who made men steadier, one by one He spake no boast, he begged no praise Men straightened simply in his gaze I followed where that brave soul led And now I walk where he lies dead Though warped in form and bowed in name My vow yet lives. I bear the same. [final chorus: Biggest lift, most direct thesis.] I am the blade that failed its lord Yet still I lift the broken sword No bell shall wash this fault from me No dawn restore what used to be Whoa-oh... Yet while one frightened voice yet calls While danger stalks these battered halls I shall stand fast though hope be slight And hold the dark at bay tonight [outro: Quiet and intimate and deeply Frog.] So if thou seek’st the queen, then come The road is cold. The hour is numb. I have no comfort fit to bring. Only a vow. Only a king. [End]
