SOCIETY IS TO BLAME

(Tune by Mike Whitaker, words by Zander Nyrond)

Water round my ankles, soaking in my shoes.
Orc that I have slaughtered, lying in the ooze.
How I wish I'd changed my mind and booked to go elsewhere,
But it's far too late to get a refund on the fare.

Water down my trousers, trickling round my groin.
Robot with my baggage, needs another coin.
How I wish I'd hired a car to drive to the hotel,
But it's far too late, and I'm condemned to brave this hell.

Water in my armour, all the joints have seized.
Red nose I can't breathe through, many times I've sneezed.
If another orc appears, I don't know what I'll do:
I tell you, Zander, this is my last holiday with you!