Oh, how the hills in the mist seem to speak
Of a tale that is not yet complete
Bonds that are soon to be born
In Emeryld Stone
Green, as the thumb of the gardener is poor
As the clifftops that give way to shore
Jagged rocks that are centuries worn
Hide Emeryld Stone
Now the stone shines for no one
Stashed away under
The power and cover of sea
Controlled by the moon
Will find a way soon
To return again
Help, in the guise of a warning has come
From a maelstrom first seen by the young
Who took notice and quick turned to run
Ryde, the tales in the mist said to ryde
From the coast to the lush countryside
Til the godless corruption subsides
Still the stone shines for no one
Stashed away under
The power and cover of sea
Controlled by the moon
Will find a way soon
To return again