Flat World, Sharp Tongue

male vocals, power metal, symphonic metal, comedic metal, fantasy metal

V3.5

[Symphonic overture of strings and choir, rising into a galloping metal riff)]

[Verse 1]
On a world that’s flat, where the elephants stand,
On a turtle that swims through the cosmic sand,
With a wizard who’s scared of his own magic stick,
And a Luggage that bites—yeah, it’s best not to kick.

Death’s got a day job and a skeletal grin,
While the Librarian’s swinging, shouting, “Ook!” from within.
A land of fools, but don’t be misled—
The Patrician rules with a brain in his head.

[Chorus]
Oh, Discworld, spinning without a care,
Where chaos reigns but the humor’s rare,
A symphony of madness, absurdity divine,
Ride the Great A’Tuin to the end of time!

[Verse 2]
There’s a witch who brews with a headstrong glare,
And a guard who’s sober (well, that’s quite rare).
Pratchett’s lore weaves a satirical spree,
From the Shades to Sto Lat, it’s hilarity!

Igor’s got stitches and a penchant for sparks,
While trolls roll dice down in Ankh-Morpork parks.
Hex hums equations, a magic-tech clash,
It’s a world where logic and lunacy smash!

[Bridge (spoken, over epic choir)]
“Do not meddle in the affairs of wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger.
But, oh, they do love a good curry...”

[Instrumental solo—dueling guitars and orchestral strings]

[Verse 3]
The gods roll dice in their celestial game,
While the witches mutter, “It’s all the same.”
Nanny’s got a jug, Granny’s got a glare,
And Magrat’s got...well, some flowers in her hair.

Moist von Lipwig’s scams put bankers to shame,
While Susan takes charge of Death’s deadly game.
Carrot’s the king who just wants to patrol,
And Rincewind’s still running, bless his cowardly soul!

[Chorus]
Oh, Discworld, spinning without a care,
Where chaos reigns but the humor’s rare,
A symphony of madness, absurdity divine,
Ride the Great A’Tuin to the end of time!

[Outro]
So here’s to the wit and the wisdom so sly,
To the world on a turtle, where pigs can fly.
In Pratchett’s pages, we laugh and we cry,
And salute the Disc as it spins through the sky!

[Final triumphant power chord with a choir singing “Ook!”]

2071/7500

[Symphonic overture of strings and choir, rising into a galloping metal riff)] [Verse 1] On a world that’s flat, where the elephants stand, On a turtle that swims through the cosmic sand, With a wizard who’s scared of his own magic stick, And a Luggage that bites—yeah, it’s best not to kick. Death’s got a day job and a skeletal grin, While the Librarian’s swinging, shouting, “Ook!” from within. A land of fools, but don’t be misled— The Patrician rules with a brain in his head. [Chorus] Oh, Discworld, spinning without a care, Where chaos reigns but the humor’s rare, A symphony of madness, absurdity divine, Ride the Great A’Tuin to the end of time! [Verse 2] There’s a witch who brews with a headstrong glare, And a guard who’s sober (well, that’s quite rare). Pratchett’s lore weaves a satirical spree, From the Shades to Sto Lat, it’s hilarity! Igor’s got stitches and a penchant for sparks, While trolls roll dice down in Ankh-Morpork parks. Hex hums equations, a magic-tech clash, It’s a world where logic and lunacy smash! [Bridge (spoken, over epic choir)] “Do not meddle in the affairs of wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger. But, oh, they do love a good curry...” [Instrumental solo—dueling guitars and orchestral strings] [Verse 3] The gods roll dice in their celestial game, While the witches mutter, “It’s all the same.” Nanny’s got a jug, Granny’s got a glare, And Magrat’s got...well, some flowers in her hair. Moist von Lipwig’s scams put bankers to shame, While Susan takes charge of Death’s deadly game. Carrot’s the king who just wants to patrol, And Rincewind’s still running, bless his cowardly soul! [Chorus] Oh, Discworld, spinning without a care, Where chaos reigns but the humor’s rare, A symphony of madness, absurdity divine, Ride the Great A’Tuin to the end of time! [Outro] So here’s to the wit and the wisdom so sly, To the world on a turtle, where pigs can fly. In Pratchett’s pages, we laugh and we cry, And salute the Disc as it spins through the sky! [Final triumphant power chord with a choir singing “Ook!”]

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