Why did you have to go and land here?
You knew this planet wasn't much.
You've lost your mind; they eat our kind.
Now you know H. Beam Piper might have called this "paradise"
Everyone is hauling iron and they don't look very nice
Then you insulted someone's root beer,
You knew that wouldn't go untouched
You watched him chill; he shot to kill
And the local doctor doesn't seem to want you to survive
You must have been Abe Lincoln in a previous life:
(2 lines of instrumental)
The ship's a mess;
I'm in distress
Now you didn't even notice that the brewer's name was Booth;
Those leeches fastened to you should have pointed out the truth.
(chorus, repeat ad nauseam to fadeout)
copyright ©1993 by Gerald L. Bliss. Usual disclaimer applies.