As a young boy chasing Dragons
with your wooden sword so mightly,
You’re St. George you’re David and you always
killed the beast
Times change very quickly
And you had to grow up early
A house in smiking rums and the bodies
at your feet
You’ll die as you lived
In a flash of the blade
In a corner forgotten by no-one
You lived for the touch
For the feel of the steel
One man, and his Honour.
The smell of resined leather
The steely iron mask
As you cut and thrust and parried at the
fencing master’s call
He taught you all he ever knew
To fear no mortal man
And now you’ll wreak your vengeance in the
Screams of evil man.
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