It Is Wrong To Sorrow Without Ceasing.

By Turns The Nine Delight To Sing

Come, Weave Us A Scheme So I Can Pay Them Back! Stand Beside Me, Athena, Fire Me With Daring, Fierce As The Day We Ripped Troy's Glittering Crown Of Towers Down. Stand By Me - Furious Now As Then, My Bright-eyed One - And I Would Fight Three Hundred Men, Great Goddess, With You To Brace Me, Comrade-in-arms In Battle!

Boy, Everyone Is Stupid Except Me.

The Outcome Of The War Is In Our Hands; The Outcome Of Words Is In The Council.

Clanless, Lawless, Homeless Is He Who Is In Love With Civil War, That Brutal Ferocious Thing.