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By jwb71913 Date: 2005 Jan 18 Comment on this Work [[2005.01.18.18.13.9466]] |
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No quarter, no white flags I come to you, a waif in rags With sword in hand, the battle lost Should freedom come at such a cost Surrender wasn't in my genes The fight was all that mattered But I must yield, I haven't means My army's torn and tattered The words once used to blast away At friend and foe alike Have all deserted me today There's no choice but to strike With colors down, I shan't lament Or contemplate my sin How free I am, and so content To let you win again So shoot the arrow to my breast Dear Cupid I will take your best |