Wargamer
2013-03-04, 05:40 AM
Oh Thundershield, the pints, the pints are calling.
From Dwarven hold, beneath the mountain side.
The ale is gone, and soggy beards are drying.
'Tis you, 'tis you, who drinks now at Thor's side.
But come ye back when hops are in the meadow
Or when the valley's trees have been laid low.
For I'll be here, in drinking or in mourning.
Oh Thundershield, oh Thundershield I love you so
(in a totally heterosexual way).
And if you come, when all the ale is flowing.
And trees are dead, as dead they all should be.
You'll come and find the place where I am lying.
Pray speak softly, for hung over I'll be.
But if you're gone, with no hope of returning.
Perhaps because a Vampire's lunch ye now be.
Then drink with Thor, in Valhalla dear Durkon.
I'll drink in peace, and shed a tear for thee.
Oh Thundershield, the pints, the pints are calling.
From mountain high, and dungeon's depths below.
There's ale abound, yet my eyes are not drying.
Oh Thundershield, oh Thundershield I love you so...
From Dwarven hold, beneath the mountain side.
The ale is gone, and soggy beards are drying.
'Tis you, 'tis you, who drinks now at Thor's side.
But come ye back when hops are in the meadow
Or when the valley's trees have been laid low.
For I'll be here, in drinking or in mourning.
Oh Thundershield, oh Thundershield I love you so
(in a totally heterosexual way).
And if you come, when all the ale is flowing.
And trees are dead, as dead they all should be.
You'll come and find the place where I am lying.
Pray speak softly, for hung over I'll be.
But if you're gone, with no hope of returning.
Perhaps because a Vampire's lunch ye now be.
Then drink with Thor, in Valhalla dear Durkon.
I'll drink in peace, and shed a tear for thee.
Oh Thundershield, the pints, the pints are calling.
From mountain high, and dungeon's depths below.
There's ale abound, yet my eyes are not drying.
Oh Thundershield, oh Thundershield I love you so...