The Lonely Mountain, great and tall

All alone, beholding all

Watching men within their town

Feeling the dwarves, forever digging down

Sensing the greed that lay at their core

Always wishing, wishing for more

Hearing the winds striking down from the north

And burning in the fires the dragon shot forth

Now the Mountain has naught to behold

But the desolation, the hoard, and the ancient demon of old