(With apologies to Sgt. Saddler)
To the tune of Green Berets
Fighting monsters up in Sky
Fearless mages who cast and die
They never fail to save the day
These brave ones they call White Mage
A silver cross upon their breast
These are Clerics - Vana'diel's best
One hundred souls will leave the gate
But only three as a White Mage
Trained to heal with nature's brand
Trainer in combat - Club, Staff, and Hand
Cleric's heal and so draw hate
Courage quick - from the good White Mage
A silver cross upon their breast
These are Clerics - Vana'diel's best
One hundred souls will leave the gate
But only three as a White Mage
Back at home a family waits
Their White Mage has met her fate
Her party wiped into the dust
Leaving them this last request
Put a Silver Cross on my son's chest
Make him one of Vana'diel's best
He'll be a man they test one day
Have him heal as a White Mage
