THE THUNDER (with apologies to Vachel Lindsay) -Ioseph of Locksley (c) copyright 1992 W.J. Bethancourt III (With love to all my friends in Rolling Thunder...heheh!) 1: Their Basic Savagery Brain-dead jocks in a beer-filled room Beer-barrel Kings, with feet unstable Pounded on the table, Pounded on the table with the handle of a dirk Hard as they were able, "Boom! Boom! BOOM!" Drunk out of their tiny minds and pounding on the drums Boomalay, boomalay, boomalay, BOOM! Giving folks a headache, and pounding on the drums, Boomalay, boomalay, boomalay, BOOM! Then I saw the Thunder, rolling thru the mud Staggering and falling down, with a macho thud. Out past the list-field, a thousand miles,, Belly-dancers dancing with belly-button smiles! Rolling of the thunderdrums; Pounding on the table. A thousand painted Conan-clones danced in files. Belly-dancing bimbos, that danced upon the table Dancing on the table, Boom! Boom! BOOM! Then I saw the Thunder, rolling thru the mud Staggering and falling down, with a macho thud. "Boom!" cried the stick-jocks! "Boom!" cried the warriors! Boomalay, boomalay, Boom, boom, BOOM! Boom! In Atenveldt! Boom! In Mistland! Boom! In Meridies! Boom! Boom! BOOM! Arnie the Barbarian pounded on the drums Brain-fried barbarians pounded on the drums. Pounded on the enemy, pounded on the drums, Pounded on the table, pounded on the dirt, Technicolor yawning on someone else's shirt. Boomalay, boomalay, boomalay, BOOM! Dancing on the table, Boom! Boom! BOOM! Dancing on the table, Hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Hear how the demons chuckle and yell Party all night with their Muscatel Listen to the whispered proclaimation Blowing in the wind to every nation, Blown thru the deserts, sere and dry, Blown thru the snowy mountains high, "Be careful what you do, Or Um-jot Gum-jot, Ghod of the rum-pot, And all of the other Ghods of the slum-pot, Um-jot will get back at you: Too much brew gonna hoo-doo you! Too much brew gonna hoo-doo you! Too much brew gonna hoo-doo you!" 2: The Hope of Their Redemtion A goodly Countess, in the slums of the town Preached to Rolling Thunder, in her velvet gown Howled out to Thunder, for their low-down ways Their prowling, guzzling, wenching ways! Beat on Corpora until she wore it out (more...this is a minor epic!)