Am            Em           F         Am
     Uncraeft; the pain that no power can salve:
                  Em            C         Em
     I wasn't the king the land wanted to have.
             C           Dm           Am           Em
     Drought withers the pastures and dries up the streams.
     Am           Em               F         Am
     Uncraeft; it whispers through all of my dreams.
     
          C                        G
          Fighting to salvage what kingdom remains,
            Am                        F          Em
          I read from the plaster the pay for my pains.
             C                  F       G
          My tie to the Lion no magic redeems,
          Am           Em               F         Am
          Uncraeft; it whispers through all of my dreams.
     
     
     Uncraeft; the half-king that's better than none,
     I stayed and I labored and let my foe run.
     What's left to me now but to fight for my schemes?
     Uncraeft; it whispers through all of my dreams.
     
     Uncraeft, I see, through the fog and the mud,
     Freelorn is come, with my payment in blood;
     The Lion our Sire will turn from my screams
     Uncraeft; it whispers through all of my dreams.