(bruce dickinson)
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.
Chorus
you'll die as you lived
in a flash of the blade,
in a corner forgotten by no one.
you llived 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 knew
to fear no mortal man
and now you'll wreak your vengeance in the
screams of evil men.
Chorus