There is a place men rarely go To heal the mind and calm their woes. Across the clock it never stops, this endless Uncertainty. But what if there was such a place. Around the corner, hidden away. Where boys and men could go find peace Among the sharpest blades. There’s something real to sounds of steel. To bare one’s neck to an artist’s skill. A forge that shaves egos away And moulds a gentle man. There’s strength at both sides of the chair. A power with every word that’s shared. Through practice, care and discipline Two warriors are born.