I post it, 'cause Dan said he would.
CHORUS: With ale pass the night, and drink the inn dry! We ride out of wives' tales with glasses held high We drink till we feel we must fight not to reel Oh, we strive to stay standing, our drunkness to conceal...
There was a boy named Jeb, a fighter brave and hard The type that's often sung about by every decent bard But poor Jeb met a fighter who was braver still and harder And met the end that every fighter meets: The ravens' larder.
There was a boy named Ethan; his wood was very long But his resolve to remain single wasn't very strong His fate he offered to the winds to bear it high above But isn't every boy's dream To be impaled on the altar of love?
There was a chick named Ellen who rarely spoke a word But howled with a wolf pack, or whistled like a bird Enamored of the green earth, she travelled far around And now I hear the earth's her prison, deep within the ground.
There was a boy named Belman with a song within his heart A song was likewise on his lips, and also on his harp He passed beyond the world he knew, outlived his own time long And lived to hear his friends recalled only in tavern-song.
There was a mage called Algernon, who had a trusty cat And no one knows what secrets hid beneath his pointy hat But the wizard had one weakness that he had the chance to rue: When charmed by a lady, his friends were not so true!
There was a girl called Emily who told outrageous lies Her hands and feet were faster than anybody's eyes. She once met Ethan's true love, who had a jealous itch; And now she lies outrageously somewhere in a ditch.
There was a tribal shaman who followed his own laws He had a mighty hammer that he wielded with Just Khaz He healed the wounds of fighters on a level near atomic But nobody could heal him within the dragon's stomach.
Once there was a girl named Kess, who didn't much like towns On account of they reminded her of a life of going down. One she was a common whore, which doesn't seem too strange 'Cause now I hear she's in the army - I guess some things never change.
Once there was a Paladin, Sir Gregory by name He was a force of order - one could say he knew no shame He battled long and righteously, and many foes destroyed But met his match in one he should have well known to a-Void!
CHORUS: With ale pass the night, and drink the inn dry! We ride out of wives' tales with glasses held high We drink till we feel we must fight not to reel Oh, we strive to stay standing, our drunkness to conceal
Oh, we strive to stay standing, our glasses now we fill And we ride out of wives' tales, the liquor flowing still!