words per minute
13
mohitbhaig
00:00
Speed
Far over the misty mountains cold
To dungeons deep and caverns old
The pines were roaring on the heights
The wind was moaning in the night
The fire was red, it flaming spread
The trees like torches blazed with light
Far over the misty mountains cold
To dungeons deep and caverns old
For ancient king and elvish lord
There many a gleaming golden hoard
They shaped and wrought, and light they caught
To hide in gems on hilt of sward.
Far over the misty mountains cold
To dungeons deep and caverns old
We must away, ere break of day
To find our long-forgotten gold