I came to Persephone without two rocks to bang together

A poor man with a strong arm and a strong will

With that arm and that will I became what I am

And my crest shows lightning, struck from stones grasped in two mailed fists

I fought hard but fair for what I wanted

Never cheated an honest man, since the crooks were easier to deceive

Only broke the laws that needed to be broken

Didn’t own or deal in slaves, having been one once myself

Lately, though, I’d lost my edge, my hunger

Just letting things slide, not having any fun

Dealing safe through middlemen and small-timers

Content to be “Sir Warrick Harrow”, the noble gentleman

Then that gorram cattle deal came along

Lord, such a penny-ante thing to have such an effect

That low-life Badger said he knew just the ship for the job

Such a mundane start for a life-changing experience

After the duel, and after the deal, I knew things had to change

Forced from the rut I’d dug for myself, I saw what I’d become

Folk were out there living life on the edge. Living!

And I was sitting like a lump in my mansion, getting old

My pistol and knife were still in the bottom of the trunk

Wrapped in oiled cloth, shiny clean and ready to go

Although I did have to let the gunbelt out a few notches

But my weapons still come to hand without conscious thought

So now I’m out among the worlds again, making my way

I use my money to get what I want, and sometimes my fists as well

Taking my ship where I will. Asking no man’s leave

Buying and selling and fighting for what’s mine

And if someday on some little piss-ant moon

My hand is a little too slow, or my aim a little bit off

At least I’ll go down fighting, not lying abed surrounded by quacks

A fitting end for the man I once was, and now am again

Although I hate to say it, guess I owe Badger a vote of thanks

If it hadn’t been for him, and Reynolds, and Atherton Wing’s big mouth

I’d still be at those banquets, trying to remember what fork to use

Instead of walking large in the ‘verse, a man once again.