Halfman's Song

There are some who are born distinguished 
There are some who are raised in praise 
But me I was always the last in line 
blot in my father’s gaze 

No cheekbones chiselled on a feline face 
No skill or savvy with a sword 
But this game we all play is won in wily ways 
And sly is this littlest lord 

Cruel tricks of romance 
Degraded by their spite 
You snub your cub too many times 
You just might feel his bite... 

Beware beware of the words I twist 
I am small but my reach is long 
And the ravens black against the winter’s mist 
Are whispering the half-man’s song 

Whispering the half man's song... 

The land is a blooming orchard 
With fruits so juicy and ripe 
With a clink of a coin loose the lion’s loin 
Play a tune on the half man’s pipe 

In the arms of a [bad word] I made a promise 
Sinking deeper into danger every day 
Cut through all their [bad word] with a brazen wit 
Molding puppets from their minds of clay 

I’m no man of honour 
Myself is my true king 
But somewhere deep within me 
The bells of conscience ring 

Beware beware of the words I twist 
I am small but my reach is long 
And the ravens black against the winter’s mist 
Are whispering the half-man’s song 

They're whispering the half man's song... 
Whispering the half man’s song...