[Shrieking hyena vocal] "Are y'all ready to visit a bunch of little fuckin' perverts?" "... That's fuckin' right! It's the fuckin' Gnomes of Thimble Glen!!!! Yaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!" [Verse 1 , shrieking female hyena vocals with snarling screams and crust growls] In the vale of Thimble Glen where fuckin' gnomes hung bells on trees, They sang to moss and morning mist and brewed their honey teas. Their lives were mild and merry then, all buttons, boots, and pie, Until a purr of thunder came and split their fuckin' sky! [Chorus, wild shrieking female hyena vocals with snarling crust growls and feral screams] Scuzzy the Hyena rode with winds that moaned, A tattered vest on golden fur, her shirt so tightly sewn. Scuzzy the Hyena, sopping wet with whiskey, She sauntered down the cobbled lanes, tail fuckin' twitching and frisky. [Verse 2] She rubbed up against the wishin' well, she stunk like piss and smoke, Her denim clung, her hair cascadin' down her back in strokes. She laughed like broken lullabies, Fuckin' stripped by candlelight, Those gnome fucks tripped on their fuckin' beards just to sneak a sight. [Chorus] Scuzzy the Hyena, furry, funk, and flirt, She made their ciders bubble and pop and every kobold spurt. Scuzzy the Hyena, brought them to their knees, She made their mushrooms throb and gush, fuckin' vanished with a tease. "Yi-hahahaaaa! Look at those squirrel-fuckin' pip squeaks go! Yaaahhhhhhhhhhhh!!!" [Verse 3, escalating hyena shrieks] But summer waned and dusk grew cold, the laughter turned to mist, The toadstools wilted one by one, as if they missed her kiss. Fuckin' gnomes still watched the forest path and dared not ask aloud, Why no new morning carried her, no fuckin' rumble in the clouds. [Bridge, snarling female hyena growling with sensuality] The oldest gnome still swears he sees her naked in the haze, Her purple hair a comet's tail above the orchard maze. He hums her name beneath his breath and sniffs her in the pines, While younger gnomes with restless eyes still wait for one more fuckin' sign! [Final Chorus, wild feral hyena screaming climax] FUCKIN' Scuzzy the Hyena rides where rainbows drip, Her purple hair still streaks the sky just like her pants unzip. Scuzzy the Hyena, denim vest and fucked— And in a pervert-gnome’s twitching hand, a purple strand's still stuck! "I fuckin' love those little pointy-hat bastards! Yi-hahahaha!"
