Pierce Thine Everliving Life

Oh Jalir my love, my fighter, my dear Show me your might, the thrust of your spear So close to death, its grasp ever near And still you thrust and you thrust And you thrust with your spear

Oh Jalir my champion, there's no other alike Each night I dream of how you handle your pike And, oh, that look of bliss as you make your first strike Come to me, my love, come With a head on a spike