the feel of wind upon our face.
"Murderer" they said,
and drove us from the fair place.
Cold fish, the only food to be had.
We must TAKE the PRECIOUS!
the taste of bread.
"Thief" they called us,
not fit to live, or to be fed.
But, Master we can trust.
We must HAVE the PRECIOUS!
springtime's bloom of green.
Death and evil deeds we made,
"Go into the hills, don't come back again"
Her lair's moldy dust, shall be their grave.
We must FIND the PRECIOUS!
the gentle warmth of yellow sun.
"Your a traitor to both foe and friend"
They will not escape, thick webs she's spun.
Dark halls of stone to hide us from men.
We must GET the PRECIOUS!
bright light of harvest moon.
"Wicked and sly" were names they gave.
Up, up the steep, spiral stairs of gloom.
With her deadly sting, their lives will fade.
We must KEEP the PRECIOUS!