Some people say a knight's made outta mud,
But a stick jock's made outta muscle and blood.
Muscle and blood and plate and mail,
A mind that's weak and an arm of hail.
Chorus 1
Ya fight sixteen knights and what do ya get?
Another bruised shoulder and deeper in debt,
Duke Frederick don't call me cuz I can't go.
I owe my soul to the armorer's store.
Verse 2
I was born one morning when the sun didn't shine,
I got some rattan and went in the line.
I found sixteen knights to pulverize,
And the Earl Marshal cried, "Authorized!"
Verse 3
Well I fight real clean and I fight real fair,
At least when there's a marshal there
I take any blow that hits me right,
But there aren't too many cuz they all feel light.
Verse 4
Well if ya see me comin' better step aside,
A lot of knights didn't and a lot of knights died.
I can fight any style and make my kill,
If my mace don't get 'cha, then my broad sword will.
Verse 5
Well I'm thirty years old and I'm a master, too.
I won crown tourney, it was easy to do.
I'm a duke thrice over, give me my due.
I can beat Duke Paul and I can beat you too.