zephyr Posted December 31, 2006 Posted December 31, 2006 Borrit was a big man Four foot five in height He was the stuff of legends He enjoyed a casual fight Borrit was always up for an adventure He was a barbarian with nerves of steel He taunted the gods by calling them names From them their underwear he did steal Borrit dressed as a barbarian should In leather from head to toe But as he was aged ninety eight years His arthritis was starting to show Borrit had a magic sword He named this cleaver ‘Zing’ When he drew the sword in battle Zing would always sing ‘We’re going to chop your legs off When we get the chance We’re going to hack and stab you Leave you in your underpants’ This wasn’t the greatest battle song That the world had ever heard But they were happy killing and maiming So they carried on undeterred Borrit he had a dicky back Which put a cramp on intercourse So rescued temple virgins Had to help him mount his horse Trolls would quake with terror Dwarves wouldn’t cross his path They’d dive in holes and hide away Lest they suffered from his wrath Borrit was an educated man His lips barely moved when he read He had to put his finger beneath each word Reading the posters ‘Wanted Alive or Dead’ Borrit could carouse with the best of them He could quaff his ale and not fall You can find him in the middle of any melee He likes nothing better than a bar room brawl With a war axe strapped upon his back Zing hanging at his hip He’s not as bad as he used to be Cos his joints give him too much gyp Borrit will never settle down With a virgin who’s a pretty face It’s the danger of heart attacks and strokes
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