W 01 Burden of the Crown 
                                            Master Baldwin of Erebor

The battlefield is silent, the shadows growing long. 
Though I may view the sunset, I'll not live to see the dawn. 
The trees have ceased to rustle, the birds no longer sing. 
All nature seems to wonder at the passing of a King. 

And now you stand before me, your father's flesh and blood, 
Begotten of my sinews on the woman that I loved. 
So difficult the birthing, thy mother died that day, 
And now you stand before me, to bear my crown away. 

The hour is fast approaching when you come into your own, 
When you take the ring and scepter and sit upon the throne. 
Before that fatal hour, when we each must meet our fate, 
Pray, gaze upon the royal crown, and marvel at its weight. 

This cap of burnished metal is the symbol of a land, 
Supporting all we cherish, the dreams for which we stand. 
The weight, you'll find, is nothing, if you hold it in your palm. 
The burden of the Crown begins the day you put it on. 

See how the jewels sparkle, as you gaze on it again. 
Each facet is a subject, whose rights you must defend. 
Every point of light a burden you must shoulder with your own. 
And mighty is the burden of the man upon the throne. 

The day is nearly ended, my limbs are growing cold. 
I feel the angels waiting to receive my passing soul. 
Keep well for me my kingdom when my memory is dead, 
And forgive me for the burden I place upon your head.

Performer(s) Cattea the Studious,
                       Christine the Good,
                       Whistler McEwan