No more tales are to be told,
the stunning mountain peaks do not glisten with gold.
All the king’s horses and all the king’s men
never had a chance
in the end.

No more tales are to be told,
my brow is furrowed, my soul is stone cold.
No more tales, the tales are old,
but if you want to believe,
go ahead be
sold.

No more tales are to be told,
my hand on your shoulder,
the burden of the world,
one last glance,
but in the blink of an eye,
we just watch the years go by.

When Jack fell down, he broke his crown,
ashes ashes, we all fall down.
The mouse ran down the clock,
the click of an
opening
lock.

No more tales are to be told,
the fine food, it thickens with mold.
My eyes grow weary, my mind a low dull,
when I close my eyes,
the mountains are gold.