One More Time
Spare me, my maiden to trouble at this late hour, but I have a request of thee. You see I have found the most unfortunate man in need of assistance; like the days of old. Like the days of the Moon, like the days of the Sun, and the nights with the Stars. So few are these days, that I come to you with an offer. Take with me this opus, and we shall write great tales, to be told over many a horn of ale. We'll dance the fire of Death one last time, and then we'll wait until another last time, until our dance is made; complete and true. Dance with me, my darling wife, and together we shall reap; bullet, blade, and all the rest, with much blood to soil our cloth. This I promise you, and to this, I know ye won't refuse.