Okay, Peter Jackson, I’ll play along, as long as you give me a shirtless Thranduil scene.
Extended shirtless elven dance rave.
All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.
From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows will spring;
Renewed shall be the blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king.