He's two metr-es and five tall , weighs hundred-twelve kg
And he fights with swords and with spears
Although he's forty-five, he's acting seventeen
Been like that for twenty years -

He's European, Viking, or a Mongol or a Rus -
A Khazar or a Byzantine -
And he knows that there is much more else than banging with the sticks
He's always such an asinine

He's fighting with the sword and shield, he's fighting with the spear
He's fighting with the Florentine
He's fighting with two-handed sword and bangs the pole-arms too
And that's his idea of good time

He's fighting for the Drachenwald, he's fighting for An Tir
He's fighting for the West and for East -
He's fighting in the tourneys, he's looking for melee
He's looking for a drinking feast

But without him how would armour-makers win their daily bread
Without him who would buy the swords?
He's one who doesn't give a damn to music, heraldry
He's the one whom clothesmaking bores

He’s the Universal Stick Jock and he really needs to shame
He really should grow up and see -
There's more than just the fighting to have fun in SCA
Your white belt means nothing to me!