Song: Temporary Kings.

[cadhla]

Take my hand and I will guide you
Through this twisting maze.
Wolves and weirdlings walk beside you,
Hidden in the haze.

You will be the King no longer
When we reach the glade.
Faith is strong, but need is stronger.
The piper must be paid.

Do not weep, oh, do not cry,
        Oh, do not have regrets;
        The land must live, the King must die,
        But it's not over yet.

For you will rise on fable's wings,
        And fly so very far,
        For the Muses built the Labyrinth
        Of the myths among the stars.

Take my hand and let me lead you
Deep into the corn.
Hear your people, how they need you;
Summer must be born.

You will be the soil's redemption
When the blade is drawn.
Kings must die, there's no exemption,
In this holy dawn.

Do not weep, oh, do not cry,
        Oh, do not have regrets;
        The land must live, the King must die,
        But it's not over yet.

For you will rise on fable's wings,
        And fly so very far,
        For the Muses built the Labyrinth
        Of the myths among the stars.

Take my hand, my lord and lover,
Let me lead the way.
There is much ground left to cover,
Quickly comes the day.

You will be the blood that binds us,
Calls the summer down,
And every harvest will remind us
Of he who wore the crown.