game master

All my computers are green for go
Time for me to be getting ready for work.
I put on Black clothes and green face paint

A studded club turn me into an ork.
I know it’s not a beauty treatment
But gets me into bleak gaming mode.
You see the gamers are on hard

I’ve to let them die, it’s the code.
Only one left standing it’s the bard
He was playing a fighting March
It was in time to the knights blows
Now all is still, for the living he searches

I look in the mirror, grin and type ‘Bard
Your friends shouldn’t have played on hard’.


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