Bob, Dave, George, Mikey and Karl (Club Cover)

We’re the League of the Slightly Unfit, A bard, a rogue, and a cleric who knits. We’ve got no map, we’ve got no plan, But we’ve got Karl the Kobold—he’s our biggest fan! Ohhh Bob the Beholder, we’re comin’ for your eye, With a bag of snacks and a battle cry! We may be weird, but we’re brave and bold— And Karl’s got a slingshot made of mold! We met Dave the Displacer, sleek and sly, He said, “I’m over here!”—but that was a lie. We swung at air, we tripped on rocks, Then he stole our pants and our lucky socks! Ohhh Bob the Beholder, your doom is nigh, Once we find our pants, you’re gonna die! We may be lost, but we’ve got soul— And Karl’s got a kazoo made from nostril of troll! Then George the Cube came slurpin’ by, A gelatinous blob with a glint and a sigh. He tried to hug us, we screamed and fled, But the rogue got stuck and now he’s dead. We found Mikey the Mimic disguised as a chair, The bard sat down and lost all his pubic hair. He screamed, “My curls!” with a tearful plea, While Karl just laughed and ate a flea. Ohhh Bob the Beholder, we’re still on track, Though half our party ain’t comin’ back. We’re bruised and burned, but spirits high— And Karl’s got a potion labeled “Pie?” At last we found Bob in his lair of doom, With floating eyes and a face like a prune. He said, “You fools, you’ll never win!” Then Karl threw pie hit his eye now he's in a spin. Ohhh Bob the Beholder, he’s now a smear, Thanks to Karl and his pastry spear! We’re misfit heroes, hear our song— We may be weird, but we get stuff wrong… I mean done! We get stuff done! yeah, we get it done what do we get done you know, stuff oh