[Intro – Spoken, over sparkly chaos] Issued by the Department of Natural Unicorns… Questing license… User Zero, report to the glitter desk immediately… [Verse 1] I got a license in the mail, it smelled like rainbow glue, Stamped with seventeen bananas and a seafoam kangaroo. “Know ye by these presents,” yeah, it’s written very loud, I am legally allowed to chase the sparkles in a cloud. Nontransferable, nonnegotiable too, If you steal my unicorn, it might just sneeze on you. Good for a lifetime and beyond, that’s what it say, But it’s totally invalid on Valen—Valen—Valentine’s Day! [Pre-Chorus] They checked my brain for glitter, they checked my shoes for fog, I recited all the ralzs to a marshmallow-scented frog. [Chorus] I’m a certified, verified, slightly terrified Unicorn hunter of the galaxy! With my rubber duck lance and my jellybean shield, I patrol every waffle-cone fantasy. From Planet Carth to zisgwherg-land, I ride on a bureaucratic rainbow band. Once a member, always member, that’s the way it be, Signed by Lake Superior State Uni-uni-versitee! [Verse 2] They “exemined” all my paperwork with bubblegum precision, Failed the spelling bee but passed the glittery audition. They said, “You’re exeeedingly qualified, we think,” Then notarized it all with invisible pink ink. Per specifications and misinterpretations, I now enforce the laws of sparkly imaginations. If your unicorn is banded, please don’t panic, don’t despair, Just report it to the warden in the cotton-candy lair. [Pre-Chorus] My guidelines are enelosed in a donut made of fog, Index filed alphabetically from “Antler” down to “Yog.” [Chorus] I’m a certified, electrified, paperwork-ified Unicorn hunter of the galaxy! With my bubble-wrap boots and my kazoo of power, I can whistle regulations for an eight-hour shower. From Planet Carth to zisgwherg skies, I issue tiny rainbows with official fries. Once a member, always member, that’s the guarantee, Stamped with “ESTABLISHED NINETEEN SEV-EN-TY!” [Bridge – Break it down, ridiculous style] Spell it wrong, spell it right, doesn’t matter in the night, When the unicorns are moonwalking through bureaucratic light. “License! Unicorn!” shouts the paperwork gnome, As we chase a neon narwhal through the student loan dome. Clip-clop, flip-flop, hooves on the tile, Glitter in the hallway in a single-file pile. Game warden in pajamas with a donut badge, Conducting sparkle traffic on the rainbow overpass bridge. [Breakdown – Call & Response] Call: Who’s got a license for the glitter stampede? Response: User Zero’s got exactly what you need! Call: Where do we quest when the homework’s done? Response: To the zisgwherg forest where the cheese moons run! [Final Chorus] I’m a dignified, cross-eyed, galaxy-wide Unicorn hunter with a plastic crown! If you see a banded unicorn doing taxes on a cloud, I’m allowed to take its selfie for the mystical file crowd. From Planet Carth to zisgwherg shore, I’ll be misreading guidelines forevermore. Once a member, always member, sing it with me: “Department of Natural Unicorn Absurditee!” [Outro – Spoken] This license is good for a lifetime and beyond… Except Valentine’s Day. Even unicorns need boundaries.
