[Verse 1 – fast, breathless, kicking off the story] We kicked in the crypt door looking for gold, found balloons made of skin and banners of soul! A skeleton band was playing the waltz, a banshee DJ screamed “Everybody polka till you dissolve!” The Litch in a party hat, five hundred candles on a coffin-cake, Turned round slow and hissed, “You’re late—grab a plate!” [Verse 2 – delighted panic] The Barbarian yelled “Ambush!” and charged the buffet, got hugged by a mummy who just wanted to sway! The Thief tried to nick the silver—turns out the silver’s cursed, now he’s a death knight in a conga line, doing the monster mash reverse! The Wizard cast Detect Evil—got invited to cut the rug, by a vampire countess who said “Darling, your aura’s simply delish—hug?” [Chorus – everyone, living and un-living, stomping in perfect undead rhythm] It’s a graveyard smash, it’s a skeleton bash, we crashed a Litch’s birthday and we’re never gonna pass! Raise your bones, raise your groans, five hundred years looks great on you! We thought we’d fight, but we’re dancing all night with the undead birthday crew! [Verse 3 – pure joyful mayhem] The Litch blew out his candles—souls shot out like fireworks, the Cleric tried Turn Undead—got turned into the conga leader first! Ghosts are doing shots of liquid regret, zombies invented the limbo (they just detach their heads, you bet)! I offered the Litch a Thornwood wreath, he cried black tears of glee, Said “No one’s brought me flowers since 1473!” [Verse 4 – faster, glorious chaos] The cake was a screaming mimic (we lit it anyway), the Barbarian rode a skeletal dragon round the buffet! The Litch declared us “honorary damned,” gave us party bags of doom, filled with +1 coffins and a coupon for one free resurrection room! We woke up topside at dawn, still drunk on vampire wine, with glitter in our armor and a thankyou card that signed: [Final Chorus – biggest yet, skeletons on tables, vampires on the bar] It’s a graveyard smash, it’s a skeleton bash, best wrong crypt we ever crashed! Raise your bones, raise your groans, Lord Rotbone says “Come back next year!” We brought the fight, stayed for the night, and the cake was to die for—cheers!
