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Upon the mountain, within the fog

Lies a spirit who sings a song

He lures men up his wicked peaks

Then casts his wrath for the blood he seeks

The pride of men, he takes away

When he hungers, his song will lead them astray

Oh come to me, I can help

Come and take my hand

I'm the mountain's only son, born from deep within

From a distance I see amongst the trees, his pale face

I crave the blood and the flesh

His final breath I can already taste

Oh come to me, I can help

Come take my hand

I'm the mountain's only son, born from deep within

I see you've com far away and are alone again

Oh come to me, lonesome man

You're not king of this mountain