The Smoking Blade: A Drinking Song

I wrote this nearly two years ago, just found it in an old notebook -- and figured I'd better inflict it on the community as a tribute to the good ol' Blade. Imagine it sung loudly, by raucous off-key drunks staggering through the streets!

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The city's loud with the noise of trade
carts rattle past the walls
the merchants screech and hawk their wares
but there's an inn where's safe to stall.

The Cathedral blinds your eyes with plate,
with lads all dressed in gold,
but there's a place where real lads go
and swig stout to make them bold.

The Old Town's stones are travelled well
by troops of dusty guards,
but there's a bar that's famous for
its women and its cards.

The wizards offer magic tricks
and their streets are strewn with flowers,
but there's a pub with a hundred brews-
a place to pass the hours.

The dwarves are proud 'bout all their crafts
and their streets are choked with smog,
but there's an inn that'll clear your throat
with the very finest grog.

The harbour smells of fish and tar,
the dockhands smell of shit
but there's a bar that'll cheer you up
and the lasses there are fit.

The park's alright for elvish folk
who live on weeds and water,
but haul yourself to this tavern fair
and they'll swing you a good lager.

Well, you know the Recluse, the Rose, the Pig,
all taverns worth their names
but if you have bleedin' half a brain
you drink at the Smoking Blade!

Best thing ever posted. Ever.

I'm so glad you approve :') The Blade certainly holds a myriad of memories for the server, so I was hoping this would provide amusement.

Though, um, we may have to take out the verse about the Park now...