When I was young I was given a sword
Told to put it to use, just a child turned loose
Not knowing better, I took everything on
Picked a fight with the evening, shook my fist at the dawn
But then I was shown from where the sword came
Given a purpose, and my enemy's name
The sword is the word
And victory is my purpose
The enemy is evil
But my strength is in God
Time was my teacher as I practiced my trade
Learning that swordsmen aren't created, but made
I studied the craft of the swordsmen of old
Learning to fight, learning how to be bold
Now I grow old, and I teach the young
Of the battles ahead, and the prize to be won
And yet every day I must unsheathe my sword
And drink from the cup that the Master has poured
