T'was on a haughty winter,
We're bitten with frost,
And none would dare venture,
Where many were lost.
V sailed his mighty longship,
To the Island of Stone,
Where the king of the serpents,
Had made it his home.
The storm it was a ragin',
Waves broke on the deck,
The bell rang with a tolling,
To warn of the wreck.
But naught could deter him,
From the fate of his quest,
Winds tore through the main sail,
Yet onward he pressed.
Sing praise to our hero,
And remember with cheer,
When V smote the basilisk,
And freed us from fear.
V landed near the cavern,
The tale of the wind,
He bellowed to the beast there,
And it crawled to him.
This bane of the Fremennik,
With a crown on his head,
Strolled top from the hollow,
Its eyes burning red.
All those who looked upon it,
Were doomed by its gaze,
Their hearts, a cold granite,
Their veins, a stone maze.
The maw of the mighty serpent,
Gaped wide like a gate,
A wail shook the mountains,
And echoed its hate.
Sing praise to our hero,
And remember with cheer,
When V smote the basilisk,
And freed us from fear.
Fangs dripping with venom,
Rushed in for the kill,
But V flexed his roundshield,
And stopped the beast still.
The shield had been polished,
With hot rocks and oil,
At the sight of its likeness,
It retched and recoiled.
Blood streamed from its eyes,
And fledged statues like rain,
With a swing of V's longsword,
The serpent was slain.
Its pelt, he made a cape,
And some teeth into horns,
Great monster died that night,
And a hero was born.
Sing praise to our hero,
And remember with cheer,
When V smote the basilisk,
And freed us from fear.
Sing praise to our hero,
And remember with cheer,
When V smote the basilisk,
And freed us from fear.
