Footwork etched into the ground,
His only thought, make Father proud!
With trusty stick he learns to fight,
Slaying the air with all his might!
He learns the craft for heart and home,
Giving himself to keep his own,
The boy stands tall but he stands alone,
For his Father has left the seeds He's sown

Can you hear it?
The fields call to him...

Winters pass and muscles grow,
A harshness builds like the winter snow!
He's trained his life, this is all he knows
This year he gets to fight!
Off to war, do his Father proud
His mother smiles so her screams are drowned
He takes in hand his Father's blade
It will sing for him, a King he'll make!

Can you hear it?
The fields call to him...

But Lo, He has fallen!
He's down on his knees
In the Fields Of Misery!
His eyes scan horizon
For the wings of the valkyrie,
But none will come!
His song has not yet been sung!
He's up off his knees
His Father arisen
On the Fields Of Misery!
His eyes scan horizon
For the wings of the valkyrie,
But not for Pity
and not for Pride
But to thank for the fire lit inside!!!

The young boy returns,
Something familiar in his eyes
A look his Mother hasn't seen in far too long a time

She runs,
Embraces her son,
Hands running over each and every scar.
The boy smiles
A devilish grin,
And for once, her husband doesnt seem so far away

He quickly rises like the tide
A raging ocean caged inside
No more will he be cast aside
Watch him as he rides the sky
The training ever more intense
Forgets his Father's final wish
All those years of sacrifice
It crumbles into this!!!

His Mother looks on in horror
To afraid to intervene
Once again, He's risen before her
A Madman, joy from weaker screams

But Lo, He has fallen!
He's down on his knees
In the Fields Of Misery!
His eyes scan horizon
For the wings of the valkyrie,
But none will come
Though his song has been sung!
So here he crumbles,
His life like a dream,
On the Fields Of Misery.
He's not coming home,
And there will be no feast
Save for the falling
Of this kind of beast