Swept on the shore by the light of
the silver moon's glaive
Creeping of dawn through the streets
in the rags of a slave
Once I was lord of this kingdom from city to sea
Now twenty years past the townsfolk
are laughing at me
Crouched in the hut of the swineherd
I don my disguise
Faced with the kindness and questions
I meet them with lies
Dirty and smoke-stained I'm all
shriveled flesh, gnarled limb
Touched by the hand of the goddess
my eyes become grim
the silver moon's glaive
Creeping of dawn through the streets
in the rags of a slave
Once I was lord of this kingdom from city to sea
Now twenty years past the townsfolk
are laughing at me
Crouched in the hut of the swineherd
I don my disguise
Faced with the kindness and questions
I meet them with lies
Dirty and smoke-stained I'm all
shriveled flesh, gnarled limb
Touched by the hand of the goddess
my eyes become grim