Surrounded by thousands near a lake
Stood our hero, one man in the wake
Sword in his hand
He fought like a man
His muscles of iron did not quake

A gash from a sword in his head
A stream of blood he did shed
His way he would make
But his life they would take
For he expected soon to be dead

His life to him was so dear
But his future was full of fear
But while on his way
There was ten he did slay
And the gleam in his eyes was so clear

There came a stroke from behind
And the bite of a sword in his spine
He detested the feel
Of the cold, sharp steel
And cursed the murdering old swine

He staggered from the blow of a gun
Then turned to stare at the sun
From his enemies he died
But not without pride
For he fought like a man who had won