| The old throne, claimed through blood and death
|
| The old king, head of the campaign
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| Strenght and honor, values he passed to his son
|
| And upon his death legacy secure and strong
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| A heavy burden born
|
| By men both old and young
|
| The question lies before:
|
| What will become?
|
| Will the kingdom fall into oblivion?
|
| The weight of the crown will either raise you up
|
| Or tear you down
|
| Blood runs boiling as the son climbs to his seat
|
| His father’s words echoes through his being
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| A vow he pledges before the gods:
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| The line won’t ever break, his son will rise above
|
| A heavy burden born
|
| By men both old and young
|
| The question lies before:
|
| What will become?
|
| Will the kingdom fall into oblivion?
|
| The weight of the crown will either raise you up
|
| Or tear you down
|
| And as the years pass, a new liege is born
|
| So much like the elder king,
|
| Yet untempered and volatile
|
| Now in his twilight years, his reign is soon to end
|
| His son now stands ready to take his rightful place
|
| But fear and doubt, they plague the boy,
|
| His thoughts a darkened forest
|
| From living in the shadow
|
| Of the namesake he adores
|
| A heavy burden born
|
| By men both old and young
|
| The question lies before:
|
| What will become?
|
| Will the kingdom fall into oblivion?
|
| The weight of the crown will either raise you up
|
| Or tear you down
|
| Raise or
|
| Tear you
|
| Down |