Lord Bludveld

Oh, save us, Lord Bludveld

Arch foe of good

Herald of the Many Mouthed God

Our leaders grow feeble 

It's time for new blood 

And we think you're the chap for the job.

Unemployment is up

Tax revenues down

Our legislature a right shower

So we now seek the king

In Drac Mortef's crown

To appropriate executive power

Your siege of the troll-folk

The rape of Moongate

Has led us to the conclusion:

You slew the bone knight,

You're unlikely to break

When dealing with uppity Unions

We desire a leader,

A man's man who knows

How to kill a guy with his bare hands.

Who quaffs honeyed mead

from the skulls of his foes

When reviewing departmental plans

But first you've a rival

Who you'll have to best

who's running a rival campaign

But his spending's not credible,

Foreign policy? A mess! 

Russia will laugh at a leader called Wayne

So, please Dread Lord Bludveld

Doom of the black dwarves

We'd be honoured if you accepted this crown

You're a statesman, a scholar

And also, of course

You've the monopoly of violence locked down.

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Random daftnesss. Huzzah! Will most likely return and edit the ever loving shit out of this so that it scans better at a later date. Also apologies for being about six years too late to the party in using what is possibly the most parodied image of the 21st century. Also, apologies to anybody named Wayne. Yours is a fine name that just so happened to fit in with the rhyme scheme I was working with

Love and fishes

Dave Denton