The Fighter (filk of Kenny Rogers' 'The Gambler')
| Marie la Fauconniere |
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(with apologies to Kenny Rogers)
On a warm summer’s evening On the road back from the battle I met up with a fighter We were tired beyond belief As we walked on together A-carryin’ our weapons And wishin’ for a cool breeze He began to speak. He said, “Friend, I’ve spent a long time Goin’ into battle Knowin’ where the blows would fall By the way they held their arms. Now if you don’t mind my sayin’, I can see you’re low in spirits. For a drink of your water, I’ll give you some advice.” So I handed him my bottle And he drank all but a swallow That he poured right down his neck To wash away the sweat. He said, “Y’know, honor’s a funny thing Sometimes we forget just what it means But if you’re gonna play this game, my friend Ya oughta learn to play it right.” “You gotta know how to hold the field Know when you oughta yield Know where your shieldmates are Never, ever run. You never call your own blows In the middle of the battle There’ll be time enough for bragging When the fighting’s done.” “Ev’ry fighter knows That the prizes we’re all after The white belt and the golden crown Are just symbols for the truth. And today you might be losin’, But tomorrow you might be winnin’, And respect from your opponent’s worth Far more than bein’ King.” And when he’d finished speaking He handed back my bottle Hefted up his old warboard And headed for his tent And in the sunset light His coronet flared bright And in his words I found a truth To keep me in the fight. You gotta know how to hold the field Know when you oughta yield Know where your shieldmates are Never, ever run. You never call your own blows In the middle of the battle There’ll be time enough for bragging When the fighting’s done. |
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