---

As a young boy chasing dragons

with your wooden sword so mighty.

You're St. George or you're David

and you always killed the beast.

Times change very quickly

and you had to grow up early,

a house in smoking ruins

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 men.

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.

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.