[Verse 1] Where ancient roots gnaw sleeping stone, Beneath the Dwarf-lord's throne, We hone our blades with goblin bone— A harsh and grating moan. Our tunnels twist where darkness lies, And surface-dwellers groan. Through mines where Dwarves once delved, Now choked with spider-silk, Our poisoned arrow-tips are helved On treachery and ilk. The surface suns we crave to quench— Their golden blood like milk. [Chorus] Drums—drums—drums—in the deep! Where stone remembers how to weep. Drums—drums—drums—in the dark! Teeth on bone, and fang on bark. [Bridge] Crush the helm that guards the face— Bash the skull beneath the case— Pinch the nerve until it sings— Smash what fragile surface brings! Iron breaks like rotted wood— We feast where surface stood [Verse 2] Where stalactites like fangs descend, And shadows writhe and cling, We guard the hoards we dare defend— Bright-gleaming, cursed things. No dragon's gold nor elvish rite Compares to what we bring. We squat in halls where kings were crowned, Their tapestries our rags, Their shattered thrones our hunting ground— Where rotting banner flags Still mock the dead who built this deep... While we gnaw moldy crags. [Chorus] Drums—drums—drums—in the deep! Where stone remembers how to weep. Drums—drums—drums—in the dark! Teeth on bone, and fang on bark.
