Where do you go to Lord Wolfie?
(to the tune of "Where do you go to My Lovely" sung in a
slightly outrageous French accent)
You talk like Fishwhip the Goblin,
you dance like Plugdung the Orc,
Your clothes are all made by Kender,
you can tell by the way that you walk.
You live in fancy encampment,
in the depths of the Norscan extremes,
And you think you're the Lord of Creation,
and you might be … in your dreams.
Chorus
So where do you go to Lord Wolfie,
when you're alone in your bed,
Tell us the fear that surrounds you,
the Evil Sunz want you all dead.
I've seen all your beautiful army,
your infantry looks really fit,
Their armour is ever so shiny,
it's a shame they can't fight for shit
When you go on your summer vacation,
you go to the annual Renewal,
With your carefully designed godless hammer,
you think you look really cool
When it snows you go back to Norsca,
with the remnants of your mighty band,
And you try to forget that you met us,
and you stick your head in the sand (yes you do!)
Chorus
Your name it is cursed in high places,
you know Tamerlain Khan,
He gave you a racehorse for Christmas,
and it bit you just for fun
They say that when you get married,
it will be with considerable luck
Coz they don't realise where you came from,
and I wonder if they give a f**k!
Chorus
I remember the cess pits of Norsca,
a wolf-cub begging his thanks,
He was touched with a burning desire,
to brown-nose his way up the ranks
So look into my face, Wolfie babe,
and remember just who we are,
The Sunz will defeat you forever,
and you know, coz you still bear the scars
We know where you go to, Lord Wolfie,
when your alone in your bed,
Coz we are the fear that surrounds you,
the Evil Sunz will make you dead. |
