Unsolicited Response Songtext
von Witheren

Sir wordsmith, may this earworm
Find the depth of your muse
And fuck with the fusebox
So you quit the toxic shit

Thick sick knight in shining armour
Enamoured with his big broadsword
Light′s a bit dim in the forest
In the thickest of the night it's hard
To pick out the pricks from the prickles


I guess i′m T-total, but yours'
An exceptional case
Inscrutable disgrace
Requiring a bunch of slugs...
Though two should do

One bourbon, one lead
Both for the head
Plugged in a smug face
Face down in the grass
Don't bullshit a dung-fuel furnace!

Don′t bullshit
A dung-fuel furnace
And don′t send
A knight to a firefight