Author Topic: Poetry collection  (Read 209052 times)

Brandenfascher

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #90 on: February 06, 2015, 11:47:13 AM »
By MegaJar, page 264 ( Comment URL: http://sssscomic.com/comic.php?page=264#comment-1838331094 )

-Parody of "We didn't start the fire"-

Badass Sigrun, Lalli in a strange land,
Killin', burnin', failed Danish invasion.
Folks from Scandinavia, book-lootin' mania,
Don't miss, 'cause then, trolls will be slaverin'.

Pyrotechnics,
Torbjörn will be quite vexed.
Scary troll, blown away, what else do I have to say?

We DID start the fire.
Now the trolls are burning, and my stomach's turning.
We DID start the fire.
Emil had to light it, 'cause the trolls can't fight it.

-------------------------------------------------------------

By LazyReader, Page 264 ( Comment URL: http://sssscomic.com/comic.php?page=264#comment-1838296822 )

-Parody of "Let it go"-

Singing: Let it burn, let it burn. put the ashes in an urn.......I
don't care what they're going to spray, whether water or foam, this
stuff is gonna burn down anyway

------------------------------------------------------------

By MoeLane, Page 264 ( Comment URL: http://sssscomic.com/comic.php?page=264#comment-1838407925 )

...Emil, Swede's-son, stands in shadows
Between shield-sister and trollish death
From steadfast breast he pulls the fire
The Loki-fire, trickster-fire,
The fire that heals unquiet dead.
As serpents hiss he gives the boon

that all troll-kind crave; with eagle eye
and steady hand he casts the fire;
True to his teachers, Emil Swede's-son
Feeds troll a feast that pleased them both.
And what rich prize did Man give Troll!
No king of old in hallowed feast hall

Ever gave a gift like this!
« Last Edit: February 06, 2015, 11:59:03 AM by Brandenfascher »
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Lightly dabbled in (read: "mostly forgotten"): :germany::france:
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slim kittens

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #91 on: February 06, 2015, 02:23:39 PM »
page 264

I wouldn't worry too much about Lalli.

LALLI BE FAST

Way down in southern Finland in the firs and bogs,
There stood a little cabin made of earth and logs.
Lalli Hotakainen grew up in the woods,
And turned into a scout who was fast and good.
He never, ever learned to read or write so well,
But he could locate a troll just by the feel and the smell.

Go! (kit-ty kit-ty) Go Lalli go!
Go! (kit-ty kit-ty) Go Lalli go!
Go! (kit-ty kit-ty) Go Lalli go!
Go! (kit-ty kit-ty) Go Lalli go!
Go!  Lalli be fast!

He hung out in the forest with a bunch of cats,
And learned the finer points of doing this and thats.
They taught him to hunt and how to fight,
And how to use his vision in the low, low light.
They gave him his cat-name and I'm here to say,
He's a V.I.C. member to this very day.

Go! (kit-ty kit-ty) Go Lalli go!
Go! (kit-ty kit-ty) Go Lalli go!
Go! (kit-ty kit-ty) Go Lalli go!
Go! (kit-ty kit-ty) Go Lalli go!
Go!  Lalli be fast!

His mother told him, "Someday you will be a mage,
Your grossling-hunting skills will take you center stage.
And people will travel from miles around,
To watch you stealing cookies when the sun go down
So learn to tread quick and learn to tread light,
And Lalli be fast tonight."  Hey, hey, hey...

Go! (kit-ty kit-ty) Go Lalli go!
Go! (kit-ty kit-ty) Go Lalli go!
Go! (kit-ty kit-ty) Go Lalli go!
Go! (kit-ty kit-ty) Go Lalli go!
Go!  Lalli be fast!

kit-ty kit-ty - scat on Chuck Berry's guitar riff
V.I.C - Very Important Cat

LooNEY_DAC

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #92 on: February 06, 2015, 08:05:07 PM »
“Burning Pages”

Sigrun said no shooting
So I cut them with my knife
But they still attacked me
And I fought them for my life
They all tried to kill me
And what’s worse
They gooped my hair
Now I’ll turn and
Burn down this whole lair

All the burning pages
That are floating
After me

All that lovely money
But it wasn’t
Meant to be

Every tome we left behind
Just makes the burning grow
Burning pages
Now it’s time to go

Lalli went and left me
In the hall a while ago
Maybe this will help him
These lighters that I throw
I just hope he joins us
From what place
He may have gone
All I know is
It’s time to move on

All the burning pages
That are floating
After me

All that lovely money
But it wasn’t
Meant to be

Every tome we left behind
Just makes the burning grow
Burning pages
Now it’s time to go

Fear is past and I can
See the grossling bearing down
Toss the starters at it and
Say, “Try to eat this, clown!”
As they go off all at
Once the shock
Knocks me away
Well I had no
Reason left to stay

All the burning pages
That are floating
After me

All that lovely money
But it wasn’t
Meant to be

Every tome we left behind
Just makes the burning grow
Burning pages
Now it’s time to go

Original: "Burning Bridges", The Mike Curb Congregation

LooNEY_DAC

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #93 on: February 08, 2015, 06:47:09 PM »
From Pg 264
“Ceilin’ Crawlin’ People Eater”

Well I heard the thing
Scritchin’ down the hall
Usin’ one of its claws
To scritch across the wall
A jaw fell on me
And I looked up to see
A troll crawlin’ on the ceilin’
Just above me

It was a
Slack-jawed
Big-mawed
Ceilin’ Crawlin’ People Eater
Slack-jawed
Big-mawed
Ceilin’ Crawlin’ People Eater
Slack-jawed
Big-mawed
Ceilin’ Crawlin’ People Eater
What a sight to see!

So I dodged its fall
As it fell down low
And I hit it with my lantern
And it screeched like so
I lit out runnin’
Thought I was home free
When another people eater
Jumped out at me!

It was a
Six-armed
Thick-tailed
Spider-Lizard People Eater
Six-armed
Thick-tailed
Spider-Lizard People Eater
Six-armed
Thick-tailed
Spider-Lizard People Eater
Jumpin’ out at me!

Well, I cut off its arms
But it didn’t slow down
So I knifed it in the neck
As it knocked me down
I called out, “Sigrun
Will you please help me?”
And Sigrun chopped its head off
Just as clean as could be

She killed the
Six-armed
Thick-tailed
Spider-Lizard People Eater
Six-armed
Thick-tailed
Spider-Lizard People Eater
Six-armed
Thick-tailed
Spider-Lizard People Eater
Tryin’ to eat me!

Well, she told me to run
And she turned to go
But I told her to wait
And I grabbed what I’d stowed
Popped the cap on the flask
And started pourin’ it out
And ran to follow Sigrun
From the thing with the mouth

Away from
Slack-jawed
Big-mawed
Ceilin’ Crawlin’ People Eaters
Slack-jawed
Big-mawed
Ceilin’ Crawlin’ People Eaters
Slack-jawed
Big-mawed
Ceilin’ Crawlin’ People Eaters
What a sight to see!

When we got far enough
I grabbed my bandoleer
I pulled the four igniters
And I threw them clear
The great big People Eater
Chasin’ after us
Got caught in an explosion
That blew it to dust!

Good bye to
Slack-jawed
Big-mawed
Ceilin’ Crawlin’ People Eaters
Slack-jawed
Big-mawed
Ceilin’ Crawlin’ People Eaters
Slack-jawed
Big-mawed
Ceilin’ Crawlin’ People Eaters
Now you can’t eat me!

…And Sheb Wooley is rolling in his grave.

Sunflower

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #94 on: February 08, 2015, 11:52:36 PM »
BEST SSSS FILK Based on a Song by a California Lieutenant Governor
(Yes, it's true:  Mike Curb served as Lt. Gov. of my great state, the *first* time Jerry Brown was governor... when they both had lots of hair and Brown was dating Linda Ronstadt.  Hey, it was the '70s.  Crazy times.)

BTW, LooNEY_DAC: What (if anything) are "Down the Hall" and "Splurking" based on?  I grew up rock'n'roll-deprived.

“Burning Pages”

Sigrun said no shooting
So I cut them with my knife
But they still attacked me
And I fought them for my life
They all tried to kill me
And what’s worse
They gooped my hair
Now I’ll turn and
Burn down this whole lair

All the burning pages
That are floating
After me

All that lovely money
But it wasn’t
Meant to be

Every tome we left behind
Just makes the burning grow
Burning pages
Now it’s time to go...

Original: "Burning Bridges", The Mike Curb Congregation
« Last Edit: February 08, 2015, 11:55:47 PM by Sunflower »
"The music of what happens," said great Fionn, "that is the finest music in the world."
:chap3:  :chap4:  :chap5:  :book2:  :chap12:  :chap13:  :chap14:   :chap15:  :chap16:

Speak some:  :france:  :mexico:  :vaticancity:  Ein bisschen: :germany:

LooNEY_DAC

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #95 on: February 09, 2015, 12:14:11 AM »
BTW, LooNEY_DAC: What (if anything) are "Down the Hall" and "Splurking" based on?  I grew up rock'n'roll-deprived.

I was in the USAF (warning: a lot of my stories start this way) from 2000-2006. My working environment surrounded me with mostly males of 18-22 years of age, and a good many of them liked to listen to "Alternative" Rock at work, which was allowed. So I heard a lot of music I wouldn't have sought out on my own, but did not necessarily dislike. The two filks you mentioned are based off of songs I encountered then: "Down the Hall" is based on "By the Way" by the Red Hot Chili Peppers, and "Splurking" is based on "Crawling" by Linkin Park. I just thought the songs fitted the mood I was trying to set.

Sunflower

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #96 on: February 09, 2015, 12:33:58 AM »
The great Sir.Orc published this on page 263 (but was too shy to post it here):

Wood creaks and groans
Shadows twist and turn
Beastly words and beastly moans
Let the fires burn

Sparks fall on floors
Flames crackle in turn
Spread on walls and spread on doors
Let the fires burn

So
Burn away the darkness
Burn away the night
Burn away the ashes
Leave only dust and light

Cleanser now behold
Cleanser now you see
No more are the ruins old
Now that the flames are free

Halls stretch and loom
With each twist and turn
Full of death and full of doom
Let the fires burn

Flames race ahead
Beasts in every turn
Full of fear and full of dead
Let the fires burn

So
Burn away the darkness
Burn away the night
Burn away the ashes
Leave only dust and light

Cleanser now behold
Cleanser now you see
No more are the ruins old
Now that the flames are free

Wood snaps and pops
Beasts tapped in turn

Their howl sounds and their howl stops

Let the fires burn

Safe now at last

There we won't return
With our books and with our past

So let the fires burn
"The music of what happens," said great Fionn, "that is the finest music in the world."
:chap3:  :chap4:  :chap5:  :book2:  :chap12:  :chap13:  :chap14:   :chap15:  :chap16:

Speak some:  :france:  :mexico:  :vaticancity:  Ein bisschen: :germany:

Sunflower

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #97 on: February 09, 2015, 12:51:27 AM »
Like Mikkel (I hope), I'm quietly ferrying salvage-worthy comment to safer ground while waiting for status updates from Our Crew.

Here are some quatrains from p. 264 in the spirit of the macabre Little Willie rhymes, which got some of the highest upvotes all weekend.  The brilliant elebenty started it, and provided this model:

Willie saw some dynamite,
Didn't understand it quite.
Curiosity seldom pays.
It rained Willie seven days.


Little Emil full of spite,
Fed the troll lit dynamite.
I wasn't there, but legend says
It rained dentipede several days.


Mogram 
The dentipede is pretty dead-
It now has very little head
Because Emil blew up its face
...at least, we hope this is the case...
If we're to accurately gauge,
We'll have to wait till Monday's page

elebenty 
Brave Sigrun heard Emil's cry
and decapitated raptor-guy.
As befits two generals' daughter,
she excels in leadership... and slaughter.

corncobman 
Emil, Emil, don't despair.
At least you still have all your hair.
You didn't keep it all that clean
But you blew the thing to smithereens

Incanus01 
Fire roared and flames licked high,
explosion tore towards the sky,
while debris and shrapnel flies,
and slimy troll in fire dies.
Stood Emil there amidst the storm,
unharmed (well mostly) was his form,
while Sigrun always quick on feet,
ran out so graceful, agile, fleet,
and best of all in this affair,
was that unscathed was Emil's hair.

Kyll 
And where was Lalli in this mess?
Out scouting out the whole troll nest
while outside, Catbus crew awaits
the aftermath? The building shakes

as blazing bursts echo loud
and probably attracts a crowd
of trolls yet lurking deep within--
Their prospects now look pretty slim...

Mogram 
Those hand grenades, when Emil lobbed them,
Solved the monster's dental problem;
And our heroes both have shown their valour
Sending the monster to Valhalla.

I bet they'd kill Emillion more
If they were scratching at the door
But often she who Sigruns away
Shall live to fight another day!
« Last Edit: February 09, 2015, 01:08:24 AM by Sunflower »
"The music of what happens," said great Fionn, "that is the finest music in the world."
:chap3:  :chap4:  :chap5:  :book2:  :chap12:  :chap13:  :chap14:   :chap15:  :chap16:

Speak some:  :france:  :mexico:  :vaticancity:  Ein bisschen: :germany:

Sunflower

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #98 on: February 09, 2015, 12:55:18 AM »
Greenwood Goat did a parody on p. 264 of the poem "Casabianca" -- one of those grand old chestnuts children used to be assigned to memorize.  You may recognize the first lines, "The boy stood on the burning deck/ Whence all but he had fled..."  (Spoiler alert:  It doesn't end happily for the boy.)

The author's comment:
Oh well, this isn't finished or complete - I don't know if I'll finish it etc...

Cleanserbianca

Emil ran 'cross the burning floor,
As he and Sigrun fled,
The flames licked up the corridor,
And o'er the monstrous dead.

Still beautiful and bright he sparked,
Lord of this firestorm,
His hair still gleamed out in the dark,
Atop his handsome form.

The flames rolled on; on did they go,
Without, to safety where,
The CatTank, in the square below,
Could get them out of there.

He yelled, "Hey Sigrun, you know that's,
The best I could have done!"
His boss said naught, they made like bats,
She gripped her knife and gun.

"Hey, Sigrun," Emil yelled again,
"You must agree it's so!"
But Sigrun essayed no reply,
And onward did they go.

Sweat on his brow, and partly spent,
Blood in his sparkling hair,
He looked to get acknowledgement,
He hadn't fouled up there.

He shouted out aloud once more,
"Oh boss, what can I say?"
And then they bolted out the door,
And to the 'Tank made way.

Then burst the flames in splendour wild,
And burned the roof on high,
And streamed through where the books were piled,
Their valued leaves to fry.
« Last Edit: February 09, 2015, 01:04:57 AM by Sunflower »
"The music of what happens," said great Fionn, "that is the finest music in the world."
:chap3:  :chap4:  :chap5:  :book2:  :chap12:  :chap13:  :chap14:   :chap15:  :chap16:

Speak some:  :france:  :mexico:  :vaticancity:  Ein bisschen: :germany:

slim kittens

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #99 on: February 09, 2015, 01:13:14 AM »
On the Necessity of Having an Armoured Personnel Carrier When Conducting Archaeological Research in the Silent World
by Tuuri Hotakainen (and The Who)


GOIN' MOBILE

We're dodging trolls,
And when we gotta bug out
We do it mobile
When we're out there grabbing books
And we take it on the run
We go mobile
Keep on movin'

We've got military treads,
We don't even need a road
When we're mobile
We can stop in any street
And flame the grosslings that we meet
When we're mobile
Keep on movin'

Out in the woods
Or in the city
It's all the same to us
When we're drivin' free, the cat's our home
When we're mobile

Hee, hoo!
Mew mew!

If you're caught out in the street,
And you need a quick retreat
Make it mobile
We've got cannons, we've got beds
And a fearsome set of treads
When we're mobile
Keep on movin'

Keep on movin'
Almost 20
Trolls pursuin'
And there's plenty

Come on move now
Movin'
Keep on movin', yeah

Keep on movin', movin', movin', yeah
Movin', Yeah
Mobile, mobile, mobile, mobile, ...

We don't care about destruction
We're metal-shrouded soldiers
That's part of a cleanser's function
Watch the giants and the grosslings smoulder
We're mobile
Oooooh, yeah, hee!

Mobile, mobile, mobile yeah

I really can hear Roger Daltrey singing this.

corncobman

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #100 on: February 10, 2015, 05:02:05 AM »
Not sure what to call this, maybe "Fears For Our Missing Feline Friend"

Behold the fiery plume of acrid smoke...
A missing member is no joke.
We hope that he will soon appear,
Before we drive right out of here.

Lalli where on earth art thou?
We need to get a move on now!
We hope the beasts did not get you
If they did we'll turn them to glue!

We'll set Emil on them like a hound.
We'll blow them all into the ground.
If instead you're in the tank,
We'll have our lucky stars to thank.

Surely slept not in the troll nest
As that idea is not the best.
Get out now while you still can,
Before the trolls do eat you man.

We hope you weren't in the blast.
If you were we'd be aghast.
Please don't be a cloud of ash.
After the explosive building crash...

Come out for a cookie, cat,
Surely you'd come out for that?
If you went in only to die.
We would despair and endlessly cry.


and the follow-up:


At last the Cat has revealed himself
And he hasn't come to any harm
He bounded from the window shelf
Then safely lands in Mikkel's arms

Lalli's trust is all but shot
Deathly is the Kitty's glare
Emil's words will save him not
Nor even will his pretty hair

« Last Edit: February 10, 2015, 08:38:41 AM by corncobman »
A man left his Icelandic home
Escaped to Denmark to freely roam
With hair braided red
He got hit on the head
With a crate lid slammed onto his dome

Fluent: :uk:
Fluent spoken, bad writing: :china:
Some knowledge: :france: :germany:
Odd word here and there: :japan:

slim kittens

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #101 on: February 11, 2015, 12:26:54 AM »
page 267

For Emil, from Elton John

SATURDAY NIGHT'S ALRIGHT FOR FRYING

It's getting late have you seen my mate?
Can you tell me where the cat-boy's gone?
The book-hunting rules were just for fools
And now I find myself alone

My captain's gone AWOL in a troll-stabbing frenzy,
And kitty-boy, he don't care
I've ruined my looks for the sake of some books,
A fist full of dust in my hair

Don't give me one of your toothpicks, Sigrun
I'm gonna use my dynamite,
Saturday night's alright for frying
Time to brighten up the night

Spread enough oil for a North Sea platform,
Gonna set this place alight
This kind of fight is the fight I like
And Saturday night's alright alright alright

Well they're packed pretty tight in here tonight
I'm looking for a path to lead me to the light
Trapped between the spider and the denti-troll
I toss some sticks and yell out "fire in the hole"!

A couple of things that I really hate,
Is a trail of slime and a cat that's late
Right now I really need to get some rest,
And not hear "Wasn't that the AWESOMEST!?"

Don't give me one of your toothpicks, Sigrun
I'm gonna use my dynamite,
Saturday night's alright for frying
Time to brighten up the night

Spread enough oil for a North Sea platform,
Gonna set this place alight
This kind of fight is the fight I like
And Saturday night's alright alright alright

corncobman

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #102 on: February 11, 2015, 01:11:45 AM »
"No Rest for the Most Best Awesomest"

Fleeing the fire the group races.
From which many a troll chases.
Awoken trolls in the distance screech,
Hopefully they are all out of reach.

The cat, first in, seeks a bed to hide under,
The tank laden with the spoils of plunder.
Tuuri guides the group right out of range
But her map reading is quite strange.

Relief is plainly on the messy Swede,
Their escape was quite lucky indeed.
The team's captain, the most best:
Surprise! "Wasn't that the AWESOMEST!?!"

Recovery may take many weeks.
If in doubt, slap Emil on the cheeks.
Lalli may no longer be Emil's friend,
And it all better be worth it in the end...
A man left his Icelandic home
Escaped to Denmark to freely roam
With hair braided red
He got hit on the head
With a crate lid slammed onto his dome

Fluent: :uk:
Fluent spoken, bad writing: :china:
Some knowledge: :france: :germany:
Odd word here and there: :japan:

Brandenfascher

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #103 on: February 11, 2015, 04:28:07 PM »
By me (Brandenfascher) ( Comment URL: http://sssscomic.com/comic.php?page=267#comment-1848329551 )

Parody of "Still Alive" by Jonathan Coulton

---------------

It was a triumph.
Sigrun made a note here:
AWESOMEST!
It's hard to overstate her satisfaction

Stand still, stay silent.
They do what they must, because they can.
For the good of all the books
except the ones that got burnt

But there's no sense dying over every mistake
They'll just keep on fighting as their lives are at stake
As their scavenge gets done, they avoid shooting guns
'Cause they still have a plan: Stay alive.

She's not even angry.
She's being so sincere right now.
Although Emil burned the books to rubbish
And tore trolls to pieces
And set the whole building up in fire
As they burned it's sucks because
There were so many more books.

Now while Sigrun's going off and feeling in prime
They are out of trouble, as we think at this time
So they're glad it got burned
think of all the funds they earned
for the people who are still alive

They're already leaving
For now they prefer to stay outside
Maybe they'll find someone else to help them
Maybe it's Braidy!
That was a joke. It's just Onni.
Anyway, these cookies rock
Lalli just can't get enough.

Look at them, still resting after their derring-do
When that troll exploded they're glad they haven't too
While their journey isn't done, Sigrun will have lot's of "Fun"
Searching for books while they're still alive.

And believe them they are still alive
They're killing trolls and they are still alive
Sigrun's fantastic and they're still alive
And while the trolls burn they are still alive
And when they're dead others are still alive

Still alive
Still alive
« Last Edit: February 11, 2015, 08:44:15 PM by Brandenfascher »
Fluent: :usa:
Lightly dabbled in (read: "mostly forgotten"): :germany::france:
:hat:

slim kittens

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #104 on: February 12, 2015, 09:07:32 PM »
page 268

For Emil, from Cat Stevens

BIG GROSSLING

Oh, I'm bein' hunted by a big grossling,
Big grossling, big grossling.
Running and hiding from a big grossling,
Big grossling, big grossling.

And if I ever lose my light,
I can't see, and I can't fight
And if I ever lose my light,
Away a hey, hey hey hey
I'll just have to scream lots more.

And if I ever shake this thing,
I will dance and I will sing.
And if I ever shake this thing,
Away a hey, hey hey hey
I'll never hunt books no more.

Oh, I'm bein' hunted by a big grossling,
Big grossling, big grossling.
Dodgin' the drippin' of a big grossling,
Big grossling, big grossling.

And if I ever lose my hair,
Think I'll cry, or think I'll care?
And if I ever lose my hair,
Away a hey, hey hey hey
I won't want to live no more.

I think the grossling lost it's mouth,
All it's teeth, north and south,
I think the grossling lost it's mouth,
Away a hey, hey hey hey
I'm gonna puke...

[instrumental break]

Is anyone trying to find me?
I can't wait for the light.
If nobody comes to help me,
I'll never make it through the night

Oh, I'm bein' hunted by a big grossling,
Big grossling, big grossling.
Duckin' and divin' from a big grossling,
Big grossling, big grossling.

Big grossling, big grossling.
Big grossling, big grossling.