May
Thursday 22 January 2009 photo 1/1
|
Förlåt jag hade tråkigt!
The Tale of Sir Penningsworth!
We ride up to the snowy north to slay some murderous trolls
We have no idea of what is to come and so we carry on
One dead, two dead, the slaugher is at it's peak
A roar, thunder and sheer musich announce the Dark Son
A bash of hammers, a clang of shields and a clash of swords
The Warband met him in full force trying to bring him down
A fight of the century is hard to put in words
But finally we killed the rat and took his bloody crown
The Good Sir Penningsworth put it on his head
Little did he know of its potential force
Nor that in seven years that it would make him dead
Penningworth didnt know that it would be worse
Seven years from that day, a dusky afternoon
Penningsworth rode out on his noble steed
Guided on his small forestpath only by the moon
He was out searching for a key for a noble deed
In a bush a troll sought refuge from the approaching dark
Knowing something did approach he crept towards the road
It stood upright on the road and lit a little spark
Penningsworth dismounted, walked towards the light but stepped on a toad
Swearing, cursing and seeking revenge he kicked the toad away
It splattered against the tree with a squishy sound
The troll attacked, firece and hard without any delay
A couple of seconds after that Worth tumbled to the ground
Gushing wounds, a troll ontop, it didnt look so bright
The end had come, his life was done, he could see the light
The brave sir knight breathe no more, do no heroic deeds
thus the world miss him so, he got his own brand of mead
He lies between two meadows, not far from whence he came
The world moves on, the surroundings change but one thing is still the same
The people whisper of Penningsworth, the Gallant knight of old
Penningsworth, Penningsworth!
The Tale of Sir Penningsworth!
We have no idea of what is to come and so we carry on
One dead, two dead, the slaugher is at it's peak
A roar, thunder and sheer musich announce the Dark Son
A bash of hammers, a clang of shields and a clash of swords
The Warband met him in full force trying to bring him down
A fight of the century is hard to put in words
But finally we killed the rat and took his bloody crown
The Good Sir Penningsworth put it on his head
Little did he know of its potential force
Nor that in seven years that it would make him dead
Penningworth didnt know that it would be worse
Seven years from that day, a dusky afternoon
Penningsworth rode out on his noble steed
Guided on his small forestpath only by the moon
He was out searching for a key for a noble deed
In a bush a troll sought refuge from the approaching dark
Knowing something did approach he crept towards the road
It stood upright on the road and lit a little spark
Penningsworth dismounted, walked towards the light but stepped on a toad
Swearing, cursing and seeking revenge he kicked the toad away
It splattered against the tree with a squishy sound
The troll attacked, firece and hard without any delay
A couple of seconds after that Worth tumbled to the ground
Gushing wounds, a troll ontop, it didnt look so bright
The end had come, his life was done, he could see the light
The brave sir knight breathe no more, do no heroic deeds
thus the world miss him so, he got his own brand of mead
He lies between two meadows, not far from whence he came
The world moves on, the surroundings change but one thing is still the same
The people whisper of Penningsworth, the Gallant knight of old
Penningsworth, Penningsworth!
Comment the photo
8 comments on this photo
Directlink:
http://dayviews.com/guildmaster/322567135/
Visa toppen
Show footer