Definetely better looking, although not excactly Kenny Rogers.
On a warm summer's eve
On a road bound for Yulash
I met up with a fighter
We were both too tired to sleep
So we took turns a-starin'
From the campfire at the darkness
Then contempt overtook him,
And he began to speak
He said, "Son, I've made a life
Out of readin' monster manuals
Knowin' all their weaknesses
Before I got into a fight
So if you don't mind me sayin'
I can see you're out of coppers
For a taste of your whiskey
I'll bring some stuff to light"
So I handed him my bottle
And he drank down my last swallow
Then he bummed a halfling pipe
And asked me for a light
And the night got deathly quiet
And his faced lost all expression
He said, "If you're gonna play the game, boy
You gotta learn to play it right
You've got to know when to hold 'em
Know when to cold 'em
Know when to fireball
And know when to turn undead
You never walk away from monsters
When you're next to 'em in combat
There'll be time enough for walkin'
When the fightin's done
Every fighter knows
That the secret to survivin'
Is knowin' what to throw away
And knowin' what to keep
Last items on the list are winners
But save in case they're losers
And cast detect magic or you'll throw away
that two-handed sword+3
And when he finished speakin'
He yelled 'Hey, a gas spore!'
Fired off some arrows
And then dropped as if asleep
And then I fell and played dead
The beastie, well it missed me
But on his stiff corpse
I found some plate mail I could keep
You've got to know when to hold 'em
Know when to cold 'em
Know when to fireball
And know when to turn undead
You never walk away from monsters
When you're next to 'em in combat
There'll be time enough for walkin'
When the fightin's done
