When I get older, losing my flesh
many eons from now
will you still be sending me buckets and pails, long haired zerk heads and dwarf cocktails
If I've beeen out for eighty-six years, would you lock the door
Will you TRO KIK me
Will FG's flick me
When I'm one-thousand four
(Piano solo and long undead sounding groans)
You'll be ancient too
And if you say A WORD
My blades will slash you
I can be handy mending a thrall, when its arm falls off
Shine up your blades by the fireside, Sunday morning slice up Maul hides
Doing the garden, finding FG's, who could ask for more
Will you TRO KIK me
Will FG's flick me
When I'm one-thousand four
Every century rent a cottage in the town of Strand, if there's no TRO near
We shall slice and dice
Ancestors with no spleens
Lifelust STILL lives today!
Send me a dwarf head
Give me a limb
Stating you can kill
Indicate presisely what you mean to slay
Your whole body's wasting away
Give me the corpse
or just an arm
mine for many years more
Will you TRO KIK me
Will FG's flick me
When I'm one-thousand four
In case you haven't guessed, a Myrmidon would be singing this song.
