Vanity, vied and templars took measure, miming tiger and crane. Chiseled out a heathen contender, vilified from heel to mane. Gun the engines, droll militiamen blade to blade, tongue to tongue, run! Kith and kin with shielded skin, bent into the pyre, will not surrender to the din of the old and blood choir. Pirate or prince, bangle or sod, we spread the finer linens for warriors and doglike gods.