(Contrary to popular belief, the original piece was written by Sir Cyprian of the Wheel. Avatar arranged the piece for acoustic guitar for performance at feasts and revels. It is not about any one person in particular. Honest.)

I’ve armored up a thousand times for country and for King
And many’s the tale that I could tell or song that I could sing
I’ve fought in Pennsic’s driving rains and struggled for each breath
At Gulf Wars and Oleno where we damned near froze to death
I’ve had my share of bruises and I’ve watched the arrows fly
But the strangest thing I’ve ever seen was
The Man Who Wouldn’t Die

He stood a towering seven feet, a giant among men
His armor was of twelve-gauge steel, his hide was that of ten
From a land most far away he came, their champion and King
And many crafty ways he had to make your helmet ring
The battle lines they soon were joined and much to my surprise
I was locked in single combat with
The Man Who Wouldn’t Die

I circled ‘round a time or two then I opened up the show
With an underhanded wrist shot which is still my favorite blow
He didn’t even try to block, just brought that greatsword down
And split my helm completely from the chin up to the crown
Though my sword was still entrapped in the dent made in his side
“What a mighty knight” his people cheered “is
The Man Who Wouldn’t Die

Full four and twenty fighters fell before his awesome might
'Though many blows did land it seemed that every one was light
The battle soon was over and by god’s own blood he went
Off to the sides to doff his gear and hammer out the dents
A second battle soon began so I took another try
With a sword named “Rhinosbane” for
The Man Who Wouldn’t Die

For “Rhinosbane” is a special blade, immortals for to cow
And if he’d had not felt those blows, he damned well feel one now!
Three feet of rattan I’d center-drilled and hollowed out the head
And filled that hole with six, or maybe seven, pounds of lead
A single shot was all I’d get so I raised my sword on high
And buried it within the helm of
The Man Who Wouldn’t Die

He didn’t even bat an eye, just calmly struck me down
And then went on the clear the field of squires, knights, and Crown
I pondered why this man was not a-stretched out on the dirt
(Guess a head shot does no good with nothing there to hurt)
A third engagement was delayed to give chirurgeons time
To pry my sword from out the head of
The Man Who Wouldn’t Die

A battle deep within the woods was the last fight of the day
And the men remaining on my side went on their knees to pray:
“Good Lord, if you care for us, allow your moon to fall
Upon this man for that would be the only blow he’d call”
But as we marched atop a hill a plan occurred which I
Thought, maybe, could lead to the death of
The Man Who Wouldn’t Die

On the hill there lay a stone a full six feet in girth
“Oh gather 'round me fighters bold, we’ll bring the man to earth!
Ten stalwart lads I’ll need with me to strike the final blow
While the rest shall keep Behemoth here occupied below
And when he tries to fight you, from up above will fly
This boulder full upon the frame of
The Man Who Wouldn’t Die

It happened just as I foresaw, from out the woods he ran
And stopped there right below us as according to the plan
The men below fought bravely while the men above did strain
To send that boulder from the hill onto his alleged brain
At last the stone it stirred to life and with a final pry
We sent that boulder on its way to
The Man Who Wouldn’t Die

Knocking trees to left and right the fearsome missile sped
And with a final bounce it came to rest upon his head
His arms and legs were all that we could see beneath the stone
But when we came from atop the hill we heard our victim groan!
Astounded, ‘round him ‘bout we stood as the day bled into night
And heard him say, one final time
“My lords, that blow was light!”