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For Sutan, King of Ansteorra

My cup fell in the ice chest,
It's been in there all night.
We muster in three minutes
And my helmet's too damn tight.
My duct tape fell into the lake,
My rivets all went pop;
I stuck on plates with chewing gum,
When will this morning stop?

Go tell the King I'll join him soon
If armour I can borrow,
And if I don't climb up the hill
I guess we'll win tomorrow.

There's been a little mix-up
With my armour on the truck.
Some bastard stole my war-board;
With a buckler I am stuck.
I'm standing in the shield wall
And I'm feeling some alarm:
There's seven dozen spears ahead
And a pie-plate on my arm.

Go tell the King I'll join him soon...

My sword and I are much alike;
Our tips are soft and droop.
My stick is mush - I cannot throw
A snap, it's more a loop.
I think next year I'll take the field
With eight foot shin-guards, so
They'll stick two feet above my head
And shin shots get called low.

Go tell the King I'll join him soon...

At least I have my master plan
On which I can rely.
Who needs a sword? My razor wit
Will make the foeman fly.
Eight rolls of tape, five blue-foam pads
And I'll be wrapped complete,
Then I'll just bodycheck 'em
As a thrusting tip with feet!

Go tell the King I'll join him soon...