A filk song
You can slay my foes, dear Frenemy mine;
So destroy my foes, dear Frenemy fine;
You got rid of my foes, dear Frenemy free;
but you’ll never, no never
no you never will ever
no you’ll never get rid, rid of me!
O Elder Desert, hot of breath
the land of drought and sun
you have no hideaway from death
nor anywhere to run.
So when the Spanish came for loot
we Hopi gave them sand;
we lured them down a crooked route
to hottest driest land;
and left them there, alone, to fry
in desert’s oven heat
and then we’d fondly bid goodbye
and back to home retreat.
O Old Man Winter, bear-skin clad
who kills by ice and cold
from Ukraine up to Petrograd
your tyranny will hold.
So when Napoleon Bonaparte,
then Hitler, did attack
we Russians from the land depart
the earth all scorched and black.
Then winter blasted sleet and snow;
the armies froze and fell;
the troops consumed by death and woe;
the empire gone to Hell.
O Mother Nothing, Lady Suck,
O vacuum of the Night
your kiss gives neither love nor luck
nor breath nor heat nor light.
So when the Earthers came to take
we Loonies ran away;
All life-support we did unmake
then swiftly we would stray
to scattered, private, hidden lairs;
The Earthers we would leave
in darkened domes, bereft of air
without a whiff to breathe.
O loser exiles, this I say;
seek land that’s blessed by curse;
then learn to live the wasteland’s way
discover best and worst;
So when invaders come on by
you need but hide and lurk
until they swift or slowly die
by nature’s dirty work.
Of all the threats in time and space
the very worst is man;
so run and race to find a place
that kills you if it can!