A Song by Sir Seronia Merritt
(OOG: Sung to the Tune of "Friends in Low Places" by Garth Brooks)
Blame it all on my roots,
I showed up in boots,
and ruined your noble affair.
My sword at my belt,
I guess that you felt,
I lacked that sophisticated air.
And I saw you surmise,
when I looked in your eyes,
that I wasn't there for champagne.
Then I flipped up the table,
and I walked to the stable,
and said with a hint of disdain...
Chorus:
I've got friends with long maces,
and the dwarf's around,
'til his axe chases,
those orcs away,
and we'll be okay.
I'm not big on new places,
think I'll hang on down,
at the horse races,
oh I've got friends with long maces.
Well I guess I was wrong,
this isn't the song,
the one, I've played here before.
Everything's all right,
I don't want a fight,
so I'll show myself to the door.
Well I didn't mean,
to offend the queen,
just give me an hour and then,
well I'll be as high,
as that wizarding tower,
that you're living in.
Chorus