What boy is this who blocks my way, his hand upon his sword?
A challenge then! Another pup, who will not be ignored.
He lusts for glory, longs for fame. He wants it all today.
He thinks an aging swordsman will be weak and easy prey.
[Refrain]
It's beat and bind, cut and thrust, eye and arm and breath,
nerve and brain, steel and blood, the swordsman's dance of death.
Now hear me boy, and listen well before you draw the blade:
If you would step that dance of death, the piper must be paid.
It's true, I'm not now what I was, my hair and beard are gray.
But if you'd see tomorrow's dawn, best walk away today.
[Refrain]
You think your youthful speed and zeal will be the death of me?
My head holds far more deadly tricks than you will live to see.
My wrist and arm are tempered steel while yours are forming clay.
I killed my first before your birth, I'll kill you if you stay.
[Refrain]
It's all for naught, your sword leaps out. Mine follows in reply.
It's sad, for I know what you don't. I know that you can die.
...
No time for words, so ponder this while choking on your blood:
Old swordsmen get to be that way by being very good.
[Refrain]
-"Swordsmen" by Michael Longcor.