Bored on the List Field

Text by Andrew Scarhart and Othar Morganson
with apologies to Ivar Battleskald

Once came a warrior,
Fresh from the bar;
Reeling, before his king he came;
When he had risen, he was still drunk
And these words he slurred unto his king:

I was bored on the list field,
I got smashed at the war
And the booze has been flowing all night;
Though some say my wits will grow rusted and dull,
I will drink like a mad dog tonight.

The king's men were pissed off,
They all drew their swords,
Ready to beat up this rude knight,
But the king wouldn't let them, 'cause he was drunk too
And these words he said unto his men:

You were bored on the list field,
You got smashed at the war
And the booze will be flowing all night;
Though some say your wits will grow rusted and dull,
You must party like mad dogs tonight.

The king's men were rallied,
They all drained their cups;
Calling for more, they soon were drunk;
When off in the distance
They heard their ladies' call
And they sang this song as they did flee:

We were bored on the list field,
We got smashed at the war
And the booze has been flowing all night;
Though some say our wits will grow rusted and dull,
We will drink all the Mad Dog tonight.

All through the night, then,
The king's men did drink;
By dawn, they looked distinctly green;
Though their bodies were on the list field,
Their heads were spinning round
And they groaned this song as they did hurl:

We were bored on the list field,
We got smashed at the war
And the booze (it) kept flowing all night;
Though it's true our wits have grown rusted and dull,
We partied like good knights last night.