Don't set your anchor down here
Dad called him the cowboy kid
River poets man these shore
Twisted dervish sends men out to their death
Their shoreline beat will not harm me
He's immune to the warlocks and their freye
Pagan worship mans these shores
The twisted antler sends giants to their deaths
The Sun breaks through the trees
Turns flesh to stone
Sunrise like blood on the water
Sun sets blood on the water
During the great war our guild was disbanded
A generation of metallurgists lost their forge
The smelter's coals burnt out with the sun
Blacksmith, turned poet, turned to shore
Their war and disease will not harm me
These waters keep our minds and bodies pure
River poets man these shores
Weary soldiers tread cautious through these hills
