Not Two Strong Men The

Ah, Beer, My One Weakness. My Achille's Heel, If You Will.

Shoulder-to-shoulder, Swing To The Work, We Must - Just Two As We Are - If We Hope To Make Some Headway. The Worst Cowards, Banded Together, Have Their Power, But You And I Have Got The Skill To Fight Their Best.

Wine Lead To Folly, Making Even The Wise To Laugh Immoderately, To Dance, And To Utter What Had Better Have Been Kept Silent.

Fate Is The Same For The Man Who Holds Back, The Same If He Fights Hard. We Are All Held In A Single Honor, The Brave With The Weaklings. A Man Dies Still If He Has Done Nothing, As The One Who Has Done Much.

Rage - Goddess, Sing The Rage Of Peleus' Son Achilles, Murderous, Doomed, That Cost The Achaeans Countless Losses, Hurling Down To The House Of Death So Many Sturdy Souls, Great Fighters' Souls, But Made Their Bodies Carrion, Feasts For The Dogs And Birds, And The Will Of Zeus Was Moving Toward Its End. Begin, Muse, When The Two First Broke And Clashed, Agamemnon Lord Of Men And Brilliant Achilles.