The Kilted Heathen
Crow FreyjasmaðR
I tell you now the tale,
Of Dylan the Weak-Chin.
Thin he was, and over-sure,
And lacked he in discipline.
One day came a war'ior,
Staunch in defense of home.
To chase the wolves that came,
Upon his town to roam.
In defense of the wolf,
Did the Weak-Chin spring fast.
'A waste of time' - he cried,
'From looks you can't see caste!'
'Ten-million wolves roam free,
In my home and in yours.
In like time will you waste,
To tell of all eye-sores!'
'Such time I will then spend',
The warrior proclaimed,
'For home I will defend!'
To join the law, he aimed.
His woman did join in defense,
Turning Dylan with scorn.
'Get thee away with them,
For no use were you born.'
The Weak-Chin then did rage,
And stamp his feet with ire.
Red he turned, purple too,
His ears hot as hellfire.
'If criminals you seek,
May they take you and yours.
For robbery, for rape,
You two are naught but whores!'
The war'ior attacked,
Friends to his side did run.
To the Weak-Chin they spoke,
Of wisdom and reason.
His folly they laid bare,
And his offense they scorned.
He was named hypocrite,
And of foolishness warned.
The warrior hard laughed,
And to his friends did call.
The Weak-Chin was hard shamed,
And could only say 'Lol'.
A day passed, and a night,
And from his cave he crawled.
A retort he did try,
And accused them of fraud.
'You take the words of others,'
He ranted and he puff'd,
'Of you I could care less!'
With an emote he bluffed.
Banter'd they, back and forth,
And lax was Weak-Chin's reply.
Insult did he attempt,
His look set them awry.
Hairless was seen his chin,
His age appear'd a child.
This the war'ior accused,
As absurd was he filed.
'By way of your thinking,
Your house ought I invade.'
The war'ior thus reason'd,
And raiding plans were made.
The Weak-Chin hard bluffed,
His pride and reason torn.
'You would most surely die',
His threat was thrown with scorn.
Mockery he was made,
And all involved did grunt.
A fool he was made of,
And his words fell silent.
The Weak-Chin did retreat,
To his cave did he crawl.
He surely faced defeat,
And he knew it full well.
There he would stay hidden,
And would brood in his shame.
Darkness would be his friend,
And ignorance his name.
So now ends the Lay of the Weak-Chin!
Of Dylan the Weak-Chin.
Thin he was, and over-sure,
And lacked he in discipline.
One day came a war'ior,
Staunch in defense of home.
To chase the wolves that came,
Upon his town to roam.
In defense of the wolf,
Did the Weak-Chin spring fast.
'A waste of time' - he cried,
'From looks you can't see caste!'
'Ten-million wolves roam free,
In my home and in yours.
In like time will you waste,
To tell of all eye-sores!'
'Such time I will then spend',
The warrior proclaimed,
'For home I will defend!'
To join the law, he aimed.
His woman did join in defense,
Turning Dylan with scorn.
'Get thee away with them,
For no use were you born.'
The Weak-Chin then did rage,
And stamp his feet with ire.
Red he turned, purple too,
His ears hot as hellfire.
'If criminals you seek,
May they take you and yours.
For robbery, for rape,
You two are naught but whores!'
The war'ior attacked,
Friends to his side did run.
To the Weak-Chin they spoke,
Of wisdom and reason.
His folly they laid bare,
And his offense they scorned.
He was named hypocrite,
And of foolishness warned.
The warrior hard laughed,
And to his friends did call.
The Weak-Chin was hard shamed,
And could only say 'Lol'.
A day passed, and a night,
And from his cave he crawled.
A retort he did try,
And accused them of fraud.
'You take the words of others,'
He ranted and he puff'd,
'Of you I could care less!'
With an emote he bluffed.
Banter'd they, back and forth,
And lax was Weak-Chin's reply.
Insult did he attempt,
His look set them awry.
Hairless was seen his chin,
His age appear'd a child.
This the war'ior accused,
As absurd was he filed.
'By way of your thinking,
Your house ought I invade.'
The war'ior thus reason'd,
And raiding plans were made.
The Weak-Chin hard bluffed,
His pride and reason torn.
'You would most surely die',
His threat was thrown with scorn.
Mockery he was made,
And all involved did grunt.
A fool he was made of,
And his words fell silent.
The Weak-Chin did retreat,
To his cave did he crawl.
He surely faced defeat,
And he knew it full well.
There he would stay hidden,
And would brood in his shame.
Darkness would be his friend,
And ignorance his name.
So now ends the Lay of the Weak-Chin!
