Greetings, lads and lady-laddies. Isn’t it wonderful existing at this day and age? Truly, all is good in Azeroth (most of the time.) We live, we eat, we drink, we laugh, we fight. Och, don’t you just want to break into song?
Well, I do! And I would, were it not for one crucial detail… There’s no song to sing! No shanty to recite, and no grand epic to put into tune! No, no… This simply won’t do.
Contemplating on this crucial lack of musical composition in the world got me thinking. There may not be many pieces that we may know of (aside from that one dreadful dirge the elves like to sing when they drop their sweetroll), and all the bards and singers of the world seemed to have dropped off into the Void!
Given these dire circumstances, I decided to take action against this drought of song. In this here thread, I invite poets, songwriters and other men and women of the World, to fill the emptiness of silence with their own songs and poems, so that maybe one day the streets of Stormwind and the crags of Orgrimmar can ring out in musical tales of adventure, debauchery, villainy and reverence!
Imagine all the stories untold by those who possess a tin ear and no love for song? All the heroes who’ve been left without praise for their deeds, or all the many places in the world, whose only memories are its forgotten songs of old? The countless evils left in ignorant suspense, because there is no one there to sing of their diabolical deeds, lest we forget?
Who knows, maybe you’ll one day be surprised and hear your own tune being mumbled out by a passersby? Given that I’m the one who is so eager to kickstart this melodious journey to fill the ears of men and women with song, I will start off the list of tunes with three of my own songs!
Here’s to all you creative songwriters and poets! Leave your mark with a tune, rather than a nasty gash!
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For Whom Do The Mountains Grow?
For whom do the mountains grow?
For dwarfs who have no place to go!
For whom do the mountains grow?
For dwarfs who wish to call them “Home!”
For whom do the fires glow?
For forges where the wood does crack!
For whom do the fires glow?
For halls to keep the darkness back!
For whom does the ale flow?
For dwarfs who do not wish to think!
For whom does the ale flow?
For all the thirsty dwarfs to drink!
For whom do the mountains grow?
For dwarfs who have no place to go!
For whom do the mountains grow?
For dwarfs who wish to call them “Home!”
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Old Lost Hills
In the cracks of the dirt
Where all the tales are told.
They tell of the great
Ancient dwarven Hold.
Its walls made of mithril,
Its forges burning bright.
'Till the day it was gone,
And lost from sight.
We sing for the Dwarven folk
Who loved the greatest thrills!
We sing for the Old Lost Hills!
We sing for their forgotten crops
And of their many mills!
We sing for the Old Lost Hills!
The dwarven hold all lost to sight
O’ where could it have gone?
A’many ranger set to look
For all the good it’s done!
All of the mountains we have searched
The harshest and the round!
Alas the Ancient Dwarven Hold
Has not been found.
We sing for the Dwarven folk
Who loved the greatest thrills!
We sing for the Old Lost Hills!
We sing of all it’s gentle winds,
And of its Daffodils!
We sing for the Old Lost Hills!
The years have passed, the young grew old,
The Hold could not be found!
The dwarven people ceased its search
And went back underground!
One thing it left behind, is
The excitement it instills!
For those who hear the legend
Of the Old Lost Hills!
We sing for the Dwarven folk
Who loved the greatest thrills!
We sing for the Old Lost Hills!
We sing of all its riches gone,
And of its Winter chills!
We sing for the Old Lost Hills!
We sing for the Old Lost Hills!
We sing for the Old Lost Hills!
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The Rabble Rousing Gnome
Who fears no dwarf? Who fears no man?
The Rabble Rousing Gnome!
Who flings their voice like no one can?
The Rabble Rousing Gnome!
He came to us from Southern Lands.
The Rabble Rousing Gnome!
He came to us wearing no pants.
The Rabble Rousing Gnome!
His shout was great, his words were wise.
The Rabble Rousing Gnome!
When he spoke he’d look in your eyes.
The Rabble Rousing Gnome!
Who started fights they could not win?
The Rabble Rousing Gnome!
Who’d laugh and grin and cheer and sing?
The Rabble Rousing Gnome!
He spoke of things both vile and grim.
The Rabble Rousing Gnome!
O’ there was no silencing him.
The Rabble Rousing Gnome!
His mouth flapped on about the King.
The Rabble Rousing Gnome!
Not pretty things of him, he’d sing.
The Rabble Rousing Gnome.
And soon the King of him was told.
The Rabble Rousing Gnome!
His soldiers took him to their hold.
The Rabble Rousing Gnome!
His insults to the King he sung.
The Rabble Rousing Gnome!
And the King cut out his tongue.
The Rabble Rousing Gnome!
Without a mouth, without a voice.
The Rabble Rousing Gnome!
The people thought they could rejoice.
The Rabble Rousing Gnome!
Yet he just smiled, then grinned, then laughed.
The Rabble Rousing Gnome.
Said “For a King you sure are daft!”
The Rabble Rousing Gnome!
Some say he still walks in the snow.
The Rabble Rousing Gnome!
Voice echoing 'cross Dun Morough.
The Rabble Rousing Gnome!