The Foam Song
|Sung to the tune of Wild Rover||
By: Sasha the Demented Mistress
We all were at Tomak's just playing with knives
because we are violent and don't have real lives.
When along came a strange little wizened old gnome
with a gigantic sack full of sheets of pink foam.
And it's no, nay, never. (I hate pink foam!)
No, nay, never no more
will I carve a foam castle,
no, never, no more.
"Use your knives on this foam," the gnome said with a leer.
"Build yourselves up a keep, go inside and drink beer."
"Okay," we all said, because we were too dumb
to foresee the HELL that our lives would become.
The foam spilled off the table and filled up the room.
We were up to our armpits in fluffy pink doom.
Even Johann had pink in his hair and his beard,
and when Johann is pink things are getting too weird.
The foam filled up the bathtub, it filled up the sink,
link a bilge overflow of a great sea of pink.
"Please stop!" Tomak cried, "For this is my home!
I don't want it all filled up with fluffy pink foam."
"Too late!" said the gnome, "I just went to the store.
Now, I've come back with seventy-three truckloads more."
He took all the foam and he built up a wall
and shut us all in, knives, foam bricks and all.
Well, it's fifty years later; we're all raving mad.
Which, once you get to it, isnt' so bad.
Our epitaph, written in blood on the sink,
is, "I have seen HELL, and it's fluffy and pink."
We've spilt on this castle our blood, sweat and beer,
and we're sick of constructing it year after year.
So after this one final Pennsic is through,
we'll pitch it, and leave all the carving to you!
Download MIDI of Song.