The land of the Free Commots gave us shelter, gave us food
This fair land by Annuvin’s lord never has been subdued
Where hammer strikes on anvil I will try to earn my bread
I crave to learn the art of shaping metal hot and red
I’ve no gold to pay you but for you I’ll labour gladly
There’s no time to teach you although tasks I have aplenty
Master true a man must be of his art to be its teacher
Hold your breath or to strike on my anvil I will seize you
In all the Commots no greater art you will find
Hevydd the smith’s skills are one of a kind
Life is a forge, stand to the fire
Life is an anvil and hammer too
Roasting and pounding, flames soaring higher
Shape your life well and life will shape you
You’ll forge yourself a sword from the beginning to the end
So gather fuel to feed the greatest fire in the land
Smelt out the metal from these rocks, a treasure gained at cost
And pay the price in scorched skin and in blood, no labour’s lost
Clouds of sparks singe our skin, burnt and blistered head to toe now
Frozen in weariness yet I feel I’ll make it somehow
Show your strength, try the fire and your deeds will be remembered
Without worth metal is until it’s been shaped and tempered
And if the blade I forged shatters what must I do
What else is there but start all anew
You’ll be a swordsmith, a worthy one in Prydain
To journey onwards it must be time
This fair land by Annuvin’s lord never has been subdued
Where hammer strikes on anvil I will try to earn my bread
I crave to learn the art of shaping metal hot and red
I’ve no gold to pay you but for you I’ll labour gladly
There’s no time to teach you although tasks I have aplenty
Master true a man must be of his art to be its teacher
Hold your breath or to strike on my anvil I will seize you
In all the Commots no greater art you will find
Hevydd the smith’s skills are one of a kind
Life is a forge, stand to the fire
Life is an anvil and hammer too
Roasting and pounding, flames soaring higher
Shape your life well and life will shape you
You’ll forge yourself a sword from the beginning to the end
So gather fuel to feed the greatest fire in the land
Smelt out the metal from these rocks, a treasure gained at cost
And pay the price in scorched skin and in blood, no labour’s lost
Clouds of sparks singe our skin, burnt and blistered head to toe now
Frozen in weariness yet I feel I’ll make it somehow
Show your strength, try the fire and your deeds will be remembered
Without worth metal is until it’s been shaped and tempered
And if the blade I forged shatters what must I do
What else is there but start all anew
You’ll be a swordsmith, a worthy one in Prydain
To journey onwards it must be time
( Lucid Dreaming )
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