My kin are borne of a race so proud
Our hearty laughs echo caverns loud
Our arms are strong our legs are stout
And of our valour there is no doubt
With that we'd fight both man and beast
For sparkling gems and healthy feasts
But what allows our hearts to sing
Are mithril mines and what they bring
The sight of such a silvery-steel
Outshines any treasure or well cooked meal
And with this our blacksmith forge's spark
Like shooting stars in skies so dark
Then shape this treasure with our hands
to the finest crafts of all the lands
Such pendants sword hilts and chain-mail
on which the sharpest blades would fail
Some say we are fickle and with this brings
A greed for such precious worldly things
but if you really understand my race
And look beyond my bearded face
Deep into my ageing eyes
And see within my stout heart lies
A love so deep for friendships made
That for all the mithril I would not trade
And would stand by you till nothing left
I had upon me but my dying breath
So when you think of my dwarven kin
Think of me, and what lies within
