[Intro] [Plucked Lute and Synth Pad] Hear ye, hear ye. Step right up to the festival. [Verse 1] I am the jester, the lyrical investor, a veritable monarch of the festival semester, Mocking the nobility with tactical agility, demonstrating absolutely magical ability. Chivalrous? No, you are visually ridiculous, wearing heavy armor while I am moving quite meticulous. Swinging with a broadsword, looking like a fraud, lord, stepping on the battlefield and praying to the odd god. Galloping rapidly, treating the gravity like it is a tragedy, attacking the majesty, Using vocabulary scarier than the constabulary, burying the knights in the local apothecary! [Pre-Chorus] (Wait for the drop) Wind up the catapult, launch the attack. (Never going to stop) Bass hitting harder than a mace to the back. [Chorus] [Future Bass Drop] [Heavy Sidechain Pumping] Welcome to the medieval rave. We are making the stalactites cave. Riding a dragon, we empty the flagon, we came to behave like a knave! (Drop the eight oh eight). [Verse 2] [Sparse Beat with Hammered Dulcimer] Practicing sorcery, terribly bossy, see, riding my chariot, incredibly glossily, Guillotine syllables slicing the pedants, dispensing my rhythm to all of the peasants. I am the alchemist, never a pacifist, serving up a deeply intellectual analysis, Brewing up a potion causing massive locomotion, leaving every baron in a state of pure paralysis. You are in a tunic, I am reading the runic, speaking in a dialect exceedingly immune, it Bounces off the parapet, breaking every armament, laughing at the king and his ridiculous environment! [Pre-Chorus] (Wait for the drop) Wind up the catapult, launch the attack. (Never going to stop) Bass hitting harder than a mace to the back. [Chorus] [Future Bass Drop] [Heavy Sidechain Pumping] Welcome to the medieval rave. We are making the stalactites cave. Riding a dragon, we empty the flagon, we came to behave like a knave! (Drop the eight oh eight). [Bridge] [Acoustic Lute Solo] [Rhythmic Clapping] Gather around the fire, listen to the choir. Sire, you are nothing but a terrible liar. [Snare Roll Build Up] (One, two, three, let us go!) [Drop] [Massive Supersaw Chords] [Double Time Hi-Hats] Catapult, radical, highly grammatical, leaving the palace in a state of the fanatical! Burn the decree and dismantle the royalty, we only dance with a rhythmic fidelity! [Outro] [Beat Stops Suddenly] [Solo Hurdy-Gurdy Melody] Goodnight, your highness. [Fade Out]
