A full plate armour with no man nor soul inside 
Corroding in the poisoned air within his shogunate 
Yet, after ageless wait fire's buckled from inside 
By a man of arms reaching like serpents into empires at 
all sides 

The divine winds carries him like an arrow to its goal 
Unwavering, laughing but without comedy 
In the face of enemies and bloody tragedy 
Mounted on horse back to deliver the Bushido's master 
stroke 

Katana, Katana 
When it leaves your side to reap 
Katana, Katana 
Bringing rivers of blood to weep 
The dew on the trees of Shiroyama 
Has the color of your sun 

Ancient wisdom springs from his noble court 
A wheel of wheels partaking in millennial codes 
The quill is easily, eagerly replaced 
Around steel the grip is firmer 
Your convictions mirrored in the blade 

Katana, Katana 
When it leaves your side to reap 
Katana, Katana 
Bringing rivers of blood to weep 
The dew on the trees of Shiroyama 
Has the color of your sun 

Unsheathe the longer and the shorter swords 
Embrace fate and see the light of another day 
Your time here depens on those before and those to come 
Honour then and become the wind that slowly sweeps the 
dunes