Metalert - Olaf The Potter

I am a Viking with a calm and steady hand
I am a worker of fine art
I am no smelter of crude and faulty weapons
I am a potter at heart

Though I'm not failing
My comrades' laughter's ailing
They believe I'm a waste

My fellow Vikings have travelled far and wide
death and destruction is their trade
Our tools and culture will stand the test of time
Their barbarism will surely fade.

I cannot stand it
I am not a bandit
Still I have fear

Oh tragedy no spoils for me,
My sacrifice of blood, will not reach the Gods
Oh Destiny how cruel you chose to be
Despite what they preach.
Valhalla's beyond my reach

I'm still a viking, whose fellows all went fighting
I'll tell their sagas on my craft
And if they tell me to change it to their liking
I'll tell them all to work my shaft

No blood expend
Sif let me ascend
to feast among the Gods