"Striking Thoughts"
With nothing but his hands,
With nothing but his feet.
With nothing but a lot of attitude,
He turned the little guy into a tough guy.

He always had time to sing my song,
He always had time to fight my fight.
Always remember, with might makes right,
And the game of death slowly approached.

The pain, it wasn't felt,
The pain, it brought great dismay.
But he may fight the rest of the way,
The way of the dragon is lain.

It breaks his back again,
The one inch punch on a man at his best.
A man flies across the room,
The man is impressed with an impression on his chest.

Striking thoughts would always drive my head,
I remember when I read into the philosophy.
The philosophy was great, and well handled,
Dismantled was the style, the art of fighting without fighting.

Have no form, be shapeless,
Water is shapeless, it has no shape.
Pour water into a glass, it becomes the glass,
Pour water into a bottle, it becomes the bottle.
Pour water into a teapot, it becomes the teapot,
Now water can stream, flow, drip, and crash.
Be water my friend.