You must **** the Beast,
That's what I've been told,
Bring your blade 'tween its eyes,
Like in the days of old.

I must beat It and break It,
That's what I'd been told,
I must bruise It and make Its
Blood run cold.

But I would rather have It go
to some foreign land,
Or else hide with the fish in the sea,
Have It go and sleep
beneath those soft sands,
And stay far away from me.

Yet I know this Beast
would haunt me even then,
Would return and rear Its ugly head,
It doesn't matter what has been
And I don't care what the others said,
I'm putting this matter to bed!

I wrestle the beast in my arms,
Howling how I forever vow
That this beast will do no more harm,
For I am its master now.