I am the one, the mountain-born,
I glow with the light of the dawn.
Older than the trees and the sun,
I have waited since time begun.
In halls of rock, entombed in stone,
The Lonely Mountain was my throne,
I laid in wait, kept in the dark,
No dwarf had found my mighty spark.
'til Longbeard clan, from Khazad-dûm
(descended from the deathless one)
Flew from the shadow, 'woken deep,
From its dark and unholy sleep.
They wandered in the wilderland,
And came across my lonely stand,
They needed shelter, they were weak,
So settled 'pon my mighty peak.
A city built, the oaths they swore,
They named my mountain 'Erebor'.
The dwarves, they came from 'cross the land,
Their home they carved, royal and grand.
And mighty Thráin, the wise and old,
He dug and delved, in search of gold.
But what he found was worth much more,
Far more than all of Erebor.
A pickaxe broke my noble seat,
Uncovered me, bright and complete,
The greatest treasure ever found,
A glowing gem from 'neath the ground.
A gift of me they made to Thráin,
I am the symbol of his reign,
The greatest treasure of his home,
All set in gold, the Arkenstone.
Yet for some time, they left their halls,
The gold was left within its walls,
To Gundabad, they made their way,
To dwell in mountains far more grey.
The Arkenstone they left behind,
To wait again for all of time,
'til Thrór returned to claim his mount,
And prosper there, years beyond count.
The dwarves, they mined into the core,
Took all the gold from Erebor.
With all their treasures, they were vain,
Their gold was why the dragon came.
So Smaug the great was only young,
Yet tasted gold upon his tongue,
Tasted the treasures of King Thrór,
Longed for the gold of Erebor.
'pon wings of flame he struck the mount,
The dwarves he roasted beyond count.
His roar echoed in halls of old,
He sought his claim to Durin's gold.
And Thrór, he wanted to fight back,
Yet none could stand the drake's attack,
So with him the dwarves left their home,
And with it left the Arkenstone.
I waited in the dragon's hoard,
With gold and gem and crown and sword,
I waited in Smaug's warm embrace,
The treasure of the Dwarven race.
And I will wait 'til dragon's bane,
Will come for me, the dragon slain,
The mighty King, back for his throne,
And with it I, the Arkenstone.