Wednesday Evening, 9:15

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It was another night, perfect Durholme evening gloom,
Some Throrrites and some fighters drank the way they always do.
Suddenly it went quiet, no-one said a word,
The sound of monsters gettin' briefed was all that could be heard.

The main door it sprang open, with an evil soundin' crack,
Revealing hordes of skeletons and zombies dressed in black.
Then came pouring out the privvy too 'cos the refs thought it was fun,
And the little scout just level two aint got nowhere to run.

Tell me it was just a dream,
Wednesday evening 9:15,
the doors opened wide and the bar got mean,
Wednesday evening 9:15.

The local dark assasins, and the brick hard mages too,
Started using up their disrupts and their venom 32s.
Someone shouted "Spirit bolt", the demon raved and howled,
Chain mail's what we wore the night we cut the monsters down.

Tell me it was just a dream,
Wednesday evening 9:15,
The doors opened wide and the bar got mean,
Wednesday evening 9:15.

I know tonight there'll be a burnin' of bodies on a hill,
No-ones ever took the Goblin, no-one ever will.
Somewhere evil demon-lords are scheming in their den,
Until they conquer Durholme they will never sleep again.

Tell me it was just a dream,
Wednesday evening 9:15,
The doors opened wide and the bar got mean,
Wednesday evening 9:15.

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