751 lines
22 KiB
Plaintext
751 lines
22 KiB
Plaintext
N E T . B A R D S O N G . B O O K , V O L U M E 1
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Hear Ye Hear Ye!! Hereunder lies the words as told by various bards,
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compiled by me, Daltrin The Cheerful. Please, use the words to best thy
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knowledge, and further thy goals. Beware the bard who uses these as his
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own (IE: Copyrights apply to original authors.). Other than that, brave
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minstrel, enjoy, and may your mandolin strings never break!!
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Daltrin The Cheerful
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Alias, Jeff Gostin
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(jgostin@eternal.chi.il.us)
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PS: If in all the excitement, I have mismarked an author, or made some
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other grevious error, please let me know! An index will be sent
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seperately. Both this document, and the index, are going out on the
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same night, so they should be arriving together also. If you dont
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recieve the index within a few days of recieving this document,
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please let me know, and I'll happily send it out to you!
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------------------------------------------------------------------------
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Ballads submitted by Ketil Malde (s082@klegg.uib.no)
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Gorm the Greedy's ballad
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(tune should be obvious, 'oh Lord, won't you buy me..')
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Oh, Torm, won't you give me a chainmail plus one
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a battle is coming, my armor is gone
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without some protection, your servant is done,
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Oh, Torm, won't you give me a chainmail plus one!
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Oh, Torm, won't you give me a magical sword,
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I just got a dagger, that's all I could afford,
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but grant me a weapon, I'll call you my lord,
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Oh, Torm, won't you give me a magical sword!
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Oh, Torm, won't you give me a powerful ring,
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or bracelet or necklace, or similar thing,
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i'll do in all monsters, and _then_ I shall sing:
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Oh, Torm, won't you give me a powerful ring,
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Oh Torm, won't you give me the Crown of Command,
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or even that infamous Veccna'ses hand,
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a Holy Avenger, a staff if you can,
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Oh Torm, won't you give me the Crown of Command,
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Oh, Torm, won't you give me a chainmail plus one
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a battle is coming, my armor is gone
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without some protection, your servant is done,
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Oh, Torm, won't you give me a chainmail plus one!
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------------------------------------------------------------------------
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Ballads submitted by Mark Manning (aio!mark@trillian.jsc.nasa.gov)
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A Little Diddy
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Oh once, there was merry,
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A sweet little lady,
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Who traveled, and traveled, about and out oh!
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Well, she went a court-in,
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But he was a snort-in,
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On his whiskey, being frisky, and free-he-he-ho!
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So she wouldn't marry,
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Nor would she tarry,
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But she left him, berefit him,
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All - a-a-lone!
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And when she was pretty,
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He became so witty,
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That she fell, as well, in love-e-oh!
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And so they were married,
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And didn't they tarry?
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But soon they were more,
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Who were alive, alive oh!
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(Of course to the old song:
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Cockels and Muscles are alive, alive oh!
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[Or whatever it is called.])
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---
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Untitled ("I'm Dreaming of a Crystal Ball.")
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(To the tune of "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas")
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Oh I'm, dreaming of a Crystal Ball.
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Just like the one I had last fall.
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When the ogres ca-ame, and smashed my plane,
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And left, me defenseless and all.....
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I'm, dreaming of my Wand of Power.
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Which shatter with a blow.
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Oh yes, it exploded, and it was loaded,
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So I..... took the damage - all....
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(Attempts at whistling now heard...)
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Oh I'm, dreaming of my old fortress,
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Where all the orcs were led one day.
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When the lich attacked me, for pay......
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And I became his, to this day.......
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---
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Untitled ("Prayer to a god")
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Prayer:"Oh lord, show me the way. What
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shalt I do? Where shalt I go? Tell me
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oh lord!"
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Messenger:
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Sunlight can not be captured,
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Nor moonlight stored away.
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Hearts which you are after,
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Have flown far away.
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Stray not, nor tarry,
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Upon the beaten coast.
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But leave off the merry,
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And tie thy clothes with rope.
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Gold is not your province,
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Nor Silver counted among thy hoard.
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Tis souls you should be after,
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In thy cloths and robes.
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Remember that which you carry,
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Is given unto thee.
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To neither stray, nor tarry,
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By such a pounding sea.
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Use it as a beacon,
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A boat to carry you along,
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Hold it up and be not wary,
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But be both proud and strong.
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That thou are a servant,
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For thy god, thee must,
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Always in your carry,
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His pride and trust.
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---
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Untitled ("See the Corpse")
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(To the tune "Walking in a Winter Wonder Land")
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See the corpse - it has risen,
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Taste the smell - it's so gruesome,
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To hack out of time, with this silly rhyme,
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Chopping up a zombie or two.
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When were through, we'll collect bones,
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Then we'll look, to connect bones,
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We'll make a bridge, out in the fridge,
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Walking through a graveyard at night.
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(Chorus or whatever that little change in the music is.)
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We can build a skeleton or two ma'm,
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All we need is a bone or two.
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If we take our time we can do two ma'm,
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All we need is to chop and to sew.
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So you see, it's so easy,
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Take your time, no need to rush it.
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Just chop a-way, and hack all day,
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Walking in a graveyard at midnight.
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---
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Untitled ("Slaver Bells")
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(To the tune of "Silver Bells")
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Slaver Bells, Slaver Bells,
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It's whipping time - in the city.
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(Just hear that...)
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Whimpering, whimpering,
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Soon it will be auction day.
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See the ladys, all parading,
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Wearing shackles and chains.
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As they hobble along the roadside.
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See the men, dear,
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Standing there dear,
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Quite a sight to be seen.
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And above all the ruckus, you hear...
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Slaver bells, hear them yell.
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It's whipping time - in the city.
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(Oh hear those...)
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Slavers sing, the money ring,
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As they sell off - everyone.
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------------------------------------------------------------------------
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Ballads submitted by David Moursund (moursund@hpcvnb.CV.HP.COM)
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The Ballad of Sir Osis
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His mithril armor burnished bright,
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One gauntlet black, the other white.
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His helm alive with brilliant light,
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His longsword danced with flame.
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This hero faced his greatest test;
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This battle would complete his quest.
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The shield he carried bore his crest;
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Sir Osis was his name.
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For courage and for strength he prayed,
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To Tyr, the god who he obeyed.
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His trust and faith would give him aid;
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He would not fight alone.
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"For honor, and for Tyr!", he roared,
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And leapt to battle for his lord.
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Opposing that unholy sword,
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He charged to match his own.
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And locked in battle, toe to toe,
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He stood against his mortal foe,
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Exchanging blow for deadly blow,
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A small and savage war.
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The damage done by each was vast;
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He knew his health was failing fast.
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The next exchange might be the last;
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He could not stand much more.
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And yet he vowed he would not yield.
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He stood his ground, and raised his shield,
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To win or die upon this field;
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The fateful moment neared.
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And in his rival, there was doubt.
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Afraid that he might lose this bout,
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The man of evil's nerve gave out;
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The coward disappeared.
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His masquerade of honor gone,
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With craven guile, this evil spawn
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Did soon return, to battle on;
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Most foully did he fight.
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But at our hero's side now stood
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The valliant Flaming Fools, who would,
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United on the side of good,
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Prove steadfast in their might.
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Courageously, they joined the fray,
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And only Phillip ran away.
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At last the party won the day,
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And killed the wicked beast.
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Remember well, and heed this tale;
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The noble hearted will not fail.
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For in the end, the good prevail,
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And evil will be greased.
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---
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The Flight of the Paladins
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The sky is the stage, with a storm all around;
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The audience helplessly waits on the ground.
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The dragons above claim the sky as their own,
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And flame marks the path over which they have flown.
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Then up from below comes a thunderous cry;
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The paladin airborne appears in the sky!
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Each knight on his pegasus, lances at hand;
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To battle they ride, in a glorious stand.
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Mere words can't describe the magnificent fight,
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As dragon and paladin battle this night.
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Raw courage and steel against talon and breath,
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As more than one hero earns honor in death.
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The blood of both evil and good falls like rain,
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But when it is over, no dragons remain.
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Perhaps but a dream, or a vision, and yet,
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Those sharing this vision shall never forget.
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---
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The Glory of Adventure
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When the enemy's surrounding,
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and we think our nerves will fail,
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when we hear the trumpets sounding,
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and they make us quake and quail,
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grab your mug and we'll be pounding
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down another round of ale!
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And we'll drink,
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to the glory of adventure!
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If there ever comes the day
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when we think that we are lost,
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when we think that we must pay
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that most dear and final cost,
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we'll just pass around the tray,
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and feel better when we're sauced!
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And we'll drink,
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to the glory of adventure!
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When we're angry and upset,
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'cause we ain't been getting paid,
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when we're tired, cold and wet,
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and a little bit afraid,
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we'll keep drinking and forget
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that we ever were dismayed!
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And we'll drink,
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to the glory of adventure!
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When the boredom makes us jumpy,
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and the motion makes us ill,
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when the food is cold and lumpy,
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a disgusting, slimy swill,
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there's no reason to be grumpy;
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tap the keg, and drink your fill!
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And we'll drink,
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to the glory of adventure!
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When the captain's really sore,
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'cause he thinks he's being mocked,
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when he's pounding on our door,
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and we're certain to get socked,
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have a drink, and tease him more;
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we'll feel nothing if we're crocked!
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And we'll drink,
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to the glory of adventure!
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---
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Untitled ("Be not dismayed")
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Be not dismayed by those who mock,
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And all endeavors noble scorn.
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Abandon not thy honor's flock;
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>From lofty virtue be not torn.
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Seek grains of truth in every voice;
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Be not thou fain to these eschew.
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But when tumultuous thy choice,
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To thine own heart, thou must be true.
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---
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Untitled (From the Mind of Grendl)
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Copper's good for making things,
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But hardly fit for kings or popes.
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Silver's good for chains and rings,
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And also killing lycanthropes.
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Electrum is a novelty,
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But seems to lack a certain flair.
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Platinum shines regally,
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Nobility beyond compare.
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Mithril is a magic ore,
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So bright and difficult to scratch.
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Gems that sparkle, I adore,
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And jewelry can have no match.
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But for a Grendl's happiness,
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There's one more thing that I require;
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One more thing I must possess,
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To feed the flames of my desire.
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Gold, I love the gleaming!
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Gold, of you I'm dreaming!
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Gold, for you I'm scheming!
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Gold, for you I'm screaming!
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I can't be happy 'til I've rolled
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Through mounds and mounds of shining gold!
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Gold gold gold gold gold gold gold!
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Mine! It's all mine! Ha ha ha ha ha!
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---
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Untitled ("Grendls' Ballad")
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Grendls are a shade of brown,
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with pretty little wings.
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They flit around like hummingbirds,
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investigating things.
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Grendls are a friendly sort,
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and like to gossip, too.
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But don't make fun of Grendls, or
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they won't be nice to you.
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Grendls are voracious tykes,
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and eat an awful lot.
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Although they like most anything,
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their favorite foods are hot.
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Grendls are inquisitive;
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a quite precocious breed,
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with burning curiosity
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matched only by their greed.
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Grendls are so sensitive,
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and cuddly and cute,
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you really shouldn't yell at them
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for pilfering your loot.
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Grendls often lust for gems,
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and jewelry and such.
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They really can't control themselves,
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so don't blame them too much.
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Grendls are remarkable;
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they simply are the best.
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So if you have one as a friend,
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then count yourself as blessed.
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---
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Untitled ("Subtle Lies")
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Our subtle lies,
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Our hidden shame;
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A somber pit
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Of bleak remorse.
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Can we admit
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We are to blame;
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Could we give rise
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To such a force?
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We make our choice,
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We shed our tears;
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How great our thirst,
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How great our goals.
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The best and worst
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Of hopes and fears;
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A nameless voice
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Which drinks our souls.
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-----------------------------------------------------------------------
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Ballads submitted by Kay Shapero (Kay.Shapero@f524.n102.z1.fidonet.org)
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Untitled ("Open the door")
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Open the door, look inside, close the door
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Open the door, look inside, close the door
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Open the door, an Orc walks in,
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His dex factor's 30 and yours is 10...
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Shut the door and Raise the Dead!"
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------------------------------------------------------------------------
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Ballads submitted by Mike Shapiro
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The Curious Fate of Lord Darhan's Rightmost Eyeball
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Lord Darhan, the mightiest knight in the realm
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He sang to himself as he put on his helm:
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"I've got me a sword and I've got me a mission
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To fight at the battle of Grissom-On-Grissom."
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BA-A-A-A-H! BLAAAH! GO BA-A-ACK! YOU'LL DIE!
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He saddled his horse, gave a kiss to his wife
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(The last time he'd ever do so in his life)
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He called for his squire and he travelled all day
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He just couldn't wait to dismember and slay
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Long days, long nights he travelled the road cold
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and endless beneath the grey sky
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His sanity unravelled; he murdered his squire
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and made henchman pie
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He finally reached the big scene of the fight
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With limbs and intestines arrayed left and right
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He drew forth his horse and leapt onto the saddle
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So happy to finally get into battle
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However the ghost of his squire was there
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More corp'real than most he grabbed Lord Darhan's hair
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He said, "Thanks for killing me, now you will die."
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He took the knight's dagger and put out his eye
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Darhan screamed as his eyeball flew out from its socket
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Oh boy was he pissed
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"Why'd you do that?!" he asked and the ghost said,
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"I aimed for your groin but I missed."
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Lord Darhan decided to fight anyway
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He said "Who needs eyes?" and he leapt in the fray
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His hubris, alas, was a little misplaced
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And somebody caved in his skull with a mace
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His eyeball, however, rolled down to the ground
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And lay there long after no one was around
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It grew lots of moss and in ime looked quite gross
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And boy would it taste unappealing on toast
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---
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The Last Dinnertime Argument of Lord Albert and Lady Liza
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"Where shall we go out to dinner oh Liza
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Oh where shall we go out to dinner tonight?
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Hunger's a rabid squirrel chewing my stomach
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Let's go to McGinty's and grab a quick bite."
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"Why must we go out to dinner oh Albert
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We certainly won't hit McGinty's tonight
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He couldn't cook if you set him on fire
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I'll bake you my meatloaf and you'll feel all right."
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"Truth to tell Liza your meatloaf's disgusting
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The thought of consuming it fills me with fright
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I fed some to Fido and he died of cancer
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So prithee let's go to McGinty's tonight."
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"Better to starve than to eat at McGinty's
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The service is slow and the help impolite
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And when you're there you're a loudmouthed inebriate
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Your drunken singing is not a delight."
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"Starvation might not do you damage oh Liza
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Some say that your figure could cause crops to blight
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Each day this week we've endured your foul cooking
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Which tastes like you sauteed a nest of termites."
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"Why did I marry this ingrate?" asked Liza
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"This slovenly foul-mouthed obtuse parasite
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Let's see you cook if you're so goddamn hungry
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You make us a dinner, you bald troglodyte."
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"Surely," said Albert, "why didn't you say so?"
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He grabbed a big knife and cut Liza to bits
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He threw her bloody remains in a cauldron
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Except for her eyes which he roasted on spits
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"What a remarkable dinner," thought Albert
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"When my bowels move a divorce they'll incite."
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Sadly sir Albert fell prey to food poisoning
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And died because he hadn't cooked Liza right
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That is the story of Albert and Liza
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A fun-loving pair who put on a good fight
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Now their dead bodies are rotting with maggots
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Please think of them when you eat dinner tonight
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------------------------------------------------------------------------
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Ballads submitted by Ryk E Spoor (seawasp@pitt.edu)
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RING THEIR BELLS
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(aka "The Munchkin's Theme" )
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(to the tune of "Jingle Bells")
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Slashing through the Orcs
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With a good two-handed blade
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Over corpses we go
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And through the gore we wade
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Mace on helmet rings
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Making bodies fly
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What fun to sing our Slaying Song
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And watch these suckers DIE!
|
|
|
|
(chorus)
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|
|
|
Oh, ring their bells with swords and spells
|
|
Don't let 'em get away!
|
|
We're brave and bold for fame and gold
|
|
We'll make a lot today!
|
|
Oh, ring their bells with swords and spells
|
|
Don't let 'em get away!
|
|
We'll hack and slash and blast and trash
|
|
And blow these dudes away!
|
|
|
|
Crashing through the door
|
|
Into the Dragon's nose
|
|
Our mage whips out a Cone of Cold
|
|
And out his fire goes!
|
|
Elven bowstrings sing
|
|
Making Balrogs fall
|
|
And our theif finds a secret door
|
|
Into the treasure hall!
|
|
|
|
(chorus)
|
|
|
|
Then appears the Lich
|
|
With his demon guard
|
|
Our wizard yawns and wishes
|
|
We'd run into something hard.
|
|
He begins to cast
|
|
His 19th level spell
|
|
The damn lich throws a Gate at us
|
|
And drops us all in Hell!
|
|
|
|
(chorus)
|
|
|
|
We appear in Hell
|
|
In front of Satan's throne
|
|
Our Cleric waves us out the door
|
|
And takes him on alone!
|
|
Satan's legions don't
|
|
Want to let us go
|
|
Our Techno pulls a bazooka out
|
|
And NUKES 'em 'till they GLOW!
|
|
|
|
Oh, ring their bells with Prayers and Spells
|
|
Don't let 'em get away!
|
|
We're brave and bold and CRAZED, we're told
|
|
To think we'll live the day!
|
|
Oh, ring their bells with swords and SHELLS
|
|
Don't let 'em get away!
|
|
We'll hack and slash and blast and trash
|
|
And drag our loot away!
|
|
|
|
------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
Ballads submitted by M. Turner (turnerml@udavxb.oca.udayton.edu)
|
|
|
|
Untitled (Irish Ditty)
|
|
|
|
I was a brigand on the road
|
|
for reasons I'll not mention.
|
|
I had to give it up, you see
|
|
I couldn't stand the tension.
|
|
|
|
I was fated ill by way
|
|
of stars in their conjunction.
|
|
The more I stole the more I lost
|
|
My way of body function.
|
|
|
|
REFRAIN
|
|
A digit here, and a digit there
|
|
More lost with each endeavour.
|
|
All links I had with a brigands
|
|
life were impolitely severed.
|
|
|
|
There was a priestly man,
|
|
all dressed in silk and splendour.
|
|
I thought he'd be an easy purse
|
|
with arms so long and slender.
|
|
|
|
Imagine my discomfiture
|
|
At losing ear and earing
|
|
It seems the man had taught
|
|
For years, the mastery of fencing.
|
|
|
|
[REFRAIN]
|
|
|
|
Then there was a caravan
|
|
filled with gold and spice.
|
|
The heathen sheik had many guards
|
|
who caught me in a thrice.
|
|
|
|
Thought the did implore of me
|
|
their laws to understand.
|
|
They did with great alacrity
|
|
relieve me of my hand.
|
|
|
|
[REFRAIN]
|
|
|
|
Then there was a milky maid
|
|
just one thing did she cherish.
|
|
When I held her in my arms,
|
|
I very nearly perished.
|
|
|
|
How could such a heavy blade
|
|
be kept upon a lass.
|
|
She almost got the family jewels,
|
|
instead she got my dignity.
|
|
|
|
[REFRAIN]
|
|
|
|
------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
Ballads submitted by Mike Whitaker/Rhodri James
|
|
|
|
Monty Who?
|
|
|
|
Mine eyes have seen the glory of the umpteeth level lord.
|
|
He can stand alone against a screaming demon horde
|
|
He has 300 hit points and a +10 vorpal sword
|
|
As he goes marching on. (shouted in thick yobbish thug voice) Welly!!!!!!!
|
|
Glory glory trash the party... x3
|
|
As they go marching on.
|
|
|
|
Mine eyes have seen the glory of the umpteenth level priest
|
|
If you're evil and he turns you then you're instantly deceased
|
|
His wisdom's 27, it's been magically increased
|
|
As he goes marching on(ward Christian)
|
|
|
|
Mine eyes have seen the glory of the umpteenth level mage
|
|
His spells are so high level that their casting takes an age
|
|
He has a book of scrolls that's got a wish on every page
|
|
As he goes marching on (spoken in crabby old mage voice) Drop Dead!
|
|
|
|
I cannot see the glory of the umpteenth level thief
|
|
He can hide in shadows and then cause you lots of grief
|
|
His backstab multiplier is just way beyond belief
|
|
As he goes sneaking on (whispered) Silently, naturally.
|
|
|
|
Mine eyes have see the grory of the frower power monk
|
|
He's no ase for armour, magic weapons or such junk
|
|
And he's immune to poison so he never end up drunk
|
|
As he goes marching on (Bow in monkish manner) So!
|
|
|
|
Mine eyes have seen the glory of the umpteenth level bard
|
|
He's both thief and fighter and he thinks he's really hard
|
|
He plays the Hammond organ and the electric guitar
|
|
As he goes filking on (two three four)
|
|
|
|
------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
Ballads submitted by UNKNOWN (unknown-- if this is yours, please let
|
|
me know)
|
|
|
|
Untitled (A Bard's Farewell)
|
|
|
|
You soon will be out facing danger and strife,
|
|
You soon will be fighting and risking your life.
|
|
I know there is use for my saber and knife;
|
|
Alas, I will not be along.
|
|
|
|
We all have my limits, and I'm nearing mine;
|
|
And so, with your pardon, I'll have to decline,
|
|
For I've an appointment with women and wine,
|
|
And gaming and music and song.
|
|
|
|
It's been far too long since I've gambled and drank,
|
|
Too long in that dungeon, disgusting and dank,
|
|
Too long amidst refuse, repulsive and rank,
|
|
Too long without love and romance.
|
|
|
|
Before I embark on some hazardous quest,
|
|
Before once again I am put to the test,
|
|
If I don't take time to recover and rest,
|
|
My sanity hasn't a chance.
|
|
|
|
It's not that your company isn't a thrill,
|
|
I'm truly impressed with your courage and skill,
|
|
And happy to journey beside you; but still,
|
|
I need to be free for a time.
|
|
|
|
When we meet again, we'll have stories to share,
|
|
So 'Vaya Con Dios'; good luck, and take care.
|
|
May travel be pleasant, and fortune be fair,
|
|
And may you find meter and rhyme.
|
|
------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
...From a tiny little node called Eternal!
|
|
--
|
|
/|Email to: jgostin@eternal.chi.il.us, offline@infopls.chi.il.us
|
|
/ |Smail to: Jeff Gostin, 917 High Ridge Pass, Carol Stream IL 60188
|
|
\ |Vmail to: 708-293-5526
|
|
\|Flames to: trashcan@eternal.chi.il.us
|