[Narrator]
In the infinite impossible, the secret realm where worlds collide
Only strength survives, weakness is defined as born to die
Beauty thinks its born for flight til fate’s sting changes hornet’s stripes
From caution warning signs to unmarked graves tracing the borderlines
Grace replaced with morbid sights means more bids placed as merchant pace
Venom dripping glares give way to bared fangs with a serpent’s haste
Blades that wave like workmans spades to pave the way to better lives
Victory made bittersweet… by aftertaste that chases bettors’ highs
In dead of night, debtors might… find necks under the threat of knives
It’s gambling with your life to take that chance when you won’t get it twice
Second hand advice is like a kingless knight or stringless kite
Yet eagles never soar before they spring to test their wings in flight
No pain? …I’d maintain that yields about the same as nothing ventured
When champions take field against you, can’t escape with nothing injured
In arena, front and center… star… or candle flame that came and went
[Fight Night Intro: Bizarro Bruce Buffer]
With no more ado ladies and gents… you’re welcomed to the main event!
Light on horizon splits darkness like a rising sun… spectators rise as one
For a challenger whose time has come… the Violent Giant… Tyrant Xun!
Opposing the corona sage… he takes the stage with throne at stake
Can’t roll over this boulder mage… it’s Valinar the Stone of Rage!
[Narrator]
As bells tolls… the cracks form… a solar halo shrouds a black form
Stone slabs stack forming platforms… then a light’s born like lightning in flash storms
Powers collide with a clash… a moment as fragile as shattering glass
Clouds of dust hide who’s standing at last… but that’s what crowds are gathering to ask
Blow trumpets and cue feathered bands to harken with their harps in hand
The blackest heart plays hearth to sparks from a magic lamp as carpet lands
And strands twisted by arts of devilish artisans sift shifting sands
A watchful eye gives northward glance, while pointing trembling crimson hand
[Outro: Parley Pete]
Then an object is lifted, but how come? Not that it shifted the outcome
Nothing is scripted, come to your senses… but this should signal the end of the trial run
I’ve completed preparations. Now the calibration’s excellent.
But make no mistake… well at least I won’t… at the next event.
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