Luyện nghe bài hát The Song Of Words

In the keep of GWAR, much torment
Despite of the bodies in twain
So many had died in the viscous
That their femurs made a fine mountain

The master was no longer GWAR's
Of and women, they had none to gain
What was left for them to attain
So did call for conclave

First came Balsac, his council was
His war-ax gleamed, he was a loyal
40 dancing bears, he did provide
First in prowess, he his lord beside

Beefcake, the mighty, his ass was
Brought 80 laden oxen, he was a good
Jizmak Da Gusha, his was described
For many he barked at the tribe

But then timely, the catering
Booze, drugs, food, 400 hundred high
Flattus Maximus, he did supply
And now the brothers of GWAR did bind

willed to journey and slay without plan
Bring siege and to the cities of man
Open
Like hell was a womb, it

And from the womb the creatures
Troll, goblin,
Siege machine and whore
will be battle like never before

The surface world learned of the
Black pope, usurper, he saw the veil
They plan their in the land of the wasted
Africa, bitter she'd tasted

of industry, let it be raised
There the camp of the black pope was
His legions, through the they raced
Chariots they rode, skulls were iron-plated

Belching fire, painted
8000 of knights freshly sainted
But they fought, they were vaccinated
To protect them the AIDS that had been created

To the reign of black pope unabated
The people at got a version G-rated
the GWAR invaded
Began the

The war barges, swarming
Disgorging the troops, forming
The low of the horning
Sounding out a call, a warning

A nuclear where GWAR was encroaching
Within a second 10 were toasting
said, "Did you feel something?"
The lord was not

The enemy is vast, steel the terrain
Still they are forming, armored and
send forth a captain, OJ by name
Flattus struck him in the

Burst the helmet, made two of the mind
Chopped his gorget, through chest into spine
And so, OJ's blood like wine
Flattus said, "So ends a time"

is angry, he'll have no more
He hurls his ax great effort
To Regis with terrible force
His breaks, his hauberk unsews

The ax bursts through the and torso
Bright blood spurts, are loosed by the throw
And with that ax the soul from goes
Jizmak, "That was a heavy blow"

Beefcake, the mighty, with spew
His sword falls, skulls in two
Eyes from sockets, he is not through
Thousands of warriors, he this to

Piling up the of those that he slew
Until it was to tell if the pile grew
said, "He is a princely lord"
Said beefcake, "Yes, true"

Jizmak smites, his whirls
Foreheads explode, twirl
open brain-pans as well
Red blood flowing as souls to hell

Oderus the black pope, exposing the brain
The blade through meat and membrane
Bright blood flowed in the grass where he was
Here ends this tale, that is plain