mountains To the humble common ground My reign will be a super-awesome thing Oh, I just can't wait to be king I'm going to be a noble king And scrupulously
not so; For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me. Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and
fears that you'd notice now like a tear cast in stone And she comes from a spring to a fountain on the wings of her song She's the king of the mountain