With the might of nine men
And with his head full of red hair
His brusque fashion and his acumen
He carved his place at the King's fair
There was only one other
To whom he looked with honor
Always by his side, facing danger
Their rhythm together was a marvel
The fate's fickle motions
Caused an abrupt end to their notions
Power of friendship wasn't able
To prevent the tragedy's closure
Braying like an injured animal
He searched his injury's satisfaction
Facing his brothers' annihilator
He continued relentlessly even in failure
Ang pag-ibig na wagas
ay walang pagdududa;
alinlanga’y di bakas
sa gabi ma’t umaga.
Sa gitna ng delubyo
ay totoong matibay;
tapat hanggang sa dulo,
hindi humihiwalay.
Sa lahat ng sandali
ay malinis ang hangad;
hindi mapagkunwari,
at lalong hindi huwad.
Sa lahat ng gawain
ay may basbas ng Diyos;
kahit may suliranin,
pagmamahal ay taos.
Mas higit kaysa ginto
sapagkat walang wakas;
kayamanan ng puso
ang pag-ibig na wagas.
Sir Lancelot was the greatest
Sir Gawain was the soundest
Sir Galahad was the purest
Sir Cumference was the roundest
Ah, look!
here is a fat white samurai,
goes by the name of Jeffy.
I see him,
drunk and slurring insults in the direction of his brothers
what a shame.
He might have been someone
yet here he is.
If only Gawain or Kissinger or Super Mario could have been there instead of him,
maybe they could have averted the situation from its violent course...
But none of them were.
And I, Jeffy,
drunk and ever foolish
fought a dirty fight in a dying bar against overpowering odds.
And sadly, I won.