Mark Of The Rider

We're the Rohan, Mark of the Rider.
A band of sentries alone at the shadow's edge.
Our hearts are noble although our blood is thin.
Our steeds are worthy to bear us once again.
As we ride to the tides of war
We remember the kings of lore,
And the riders that fell before.
And I don't know why
They had to go, but it makes me cry,
And now their music is fading too.
Ooh ooh ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh ooh

They're looking at me 'cause they want the translation
From the high elves, but I don't know how to speak that tongue.
The runes are faded, from long long ago.
The story's traded. It's a long lonely tale.
Of the way that things used to be.
There was magic for all to see,
And the elves roamed the forest free.
And I don't know why
They had to go but it makes me cry,
And now their music is fading too.
Ooh ooh ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh ooh