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"Battle-Axe"
I'm Made of Iron, Hard and Lean
My Name's Well Known, I'm Wicked Mean!
Heads Still Moan from My Crack,
Some Went Under, Upon Their Back;
So if you See Me in a Fight,
Run Like Hell, yea Take Flight!
For Peace and Mercy I Have'nt Concern;
It's Blood I Crave, and Yours I Yearn!
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