One notch and straight, decided fate. Then loose and look, another's took. A visor up, one on the floor the naive put it up to four. The boulder crash and rip of leather the quiver's gone but not too slow comes back the bow and arrow tip, and tearing through a savage eye that's number five that he decides. But now another's tagged his throat and down he goes, and so he knows, that its not smart to mess about with sticks and stones and long bows.