I am the king, I am the king of the draughty old fortress. I am the lord, the lord and the master of house and the grounds. As dreamer eyes, scan the horizon, searchin' for travellers. As dreamer yours, hoping for music, sweet music, but it never sounds. And nobody rings on your bell when it weighs five hundred pounds. The bell ropes are twisted and tattered and chewed by the hounds. I am the king of this draughty old fortress and all of the lands around. Yes, I'm the king of this draughty old fortress and all the lands around. I pace the rooms, the towers and tombs of this dusty old palace. Outside these walls, no beast or bird for miles around. Through echoing halls, and corridors dark, I measure my kingdom. Hoping for news, from travelling fools, but they never wander from town. And nobody rings on your bell when it weighs five hundred pounds. The bell ropes are twisted and tattered and chewed by the hounds. I am the king of this draughty old fortress and all of the lands around. Yes, I'm the king of this draughty old fortress and all the lands around.