It was my first spring a warrior, my coming of age
My first kill a good one, sweet victory sage
I celebrated broke bread and ate meat by the fire
told stories of might as the moon rose higher
I killed six men that day, razed blood and bone
I roared as my brothers fell, their souls into my own
their pain and courage their beautiful deaths
I bolstered my blood with their fire as wives wept
after the blood and the sweat I fought not again
not till next spring, when the enemy came to our dens
My armor lay in my old leather cord bag,
I payed no attention to the smell of swamp hag
My helmet was rusted and pitted with holes
My armor was covered in green rancid molds
the sweat and the stink of my victories
was rancid and putrid like hundred year cheese
It struck me first in the face like the hammer Mjolnir
and left me gagging and reaching for beer
OCH you smell of foul rot! my brothers had cried
DUMP HIM IN THE RIVER by odin he's DIED
Much laughing and jibing that night by the fire
As I became Jorvikr the Smelly, not Jorvikr the Squire...
Stumble!