-From Gregor and the Curse of the Warmbloods-

Warmblood now a bloodborne death,

Will rob your body of its breath,

Mark your skin, and seal your fate.

The Underland becomes a plate.

Turn and turn and turn again.

You see the what but not the when.

Remedy and wrong entwine,

And so they form a single vine.

Bring the warrior from above

If yet his heart is swayed by love.

Bring the princess or despair,

No crawlers care without her there.

Turn and turn and turn again.

You see the what but not the when.

Remedy and wrong entwine,

And so they form a single vine.

Those whose blood runs red and hot

Must join to seek the healing spot.

In the cradle find the cure

For that which makes the blood impure.

Turn and turn and turn again.

You see the what but not the when.

Remedy and wrong entwine,

And so they form a single vine.

Gnawer, human, set aside

The hatreds that reside inside.

If the flames of war are fanned,

All warmbloods lose the Underland.

Turn and turn and turn again.

You see the what but not the when.

Remedy and wrong entwine,

And so they form a single vine.