Many men are sent on a quest For the crown Searching all corners of the great land. The minstrel tries to sing as before But the jester he laughs no more Many men are sent on a mission of hope Asking fortune-tellers and the wise men Where the royal crown is to be found, Promising rewards in silver, gold and pounds
When the kind returns from the crusades There is no big welcome on the shore. As he hear the new of the missing crown He shouts at the sky: "have I ever let you down?" The elderly call it a sign as famine Strikes the land Caught in the grip Of the reapers cold hand
The mission must succeed Or the kingdom will fall With it falls the future if us all,
No crystal-ball mange to find Guidance in their holy quest. God is the last hope for our nation Of earth, stone and damnation.
Many years had past since the kind died When one day a young boy looked down Into the moat. Something was gleaming deep down, What could it be If not the kings crown.