User talk:StormWind

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The song "Firefly" performed at Woodstock party the 18th of Sep
It danced in the sky with it’s burning wing
It made us bleed with it’s little sting
It roamed the hills and the wet damp mire
It helped us all get higher
Come on baby, light the fire
Why did the Firefly have to die?
Why did the Firefly have to die?
I’m asking the kingly King Oh why?
Why did the Firefly have to die?
You say this is inflammatory speech
You don’t wanna listen to what I preach
You say the Glow worm is a mighty foe
You say it’s scary as Edgar Allan Poe
Come on baby, dis that glow
Fiddle solo
I call for a quest to find an egg
I’m on my knees man, watch me beg
I say a race far into the distance
I cry man, will the fly back into existence
Come on baby, we need assistance

The song "The battle of Ranger Hill" performed at Woodstock party the 21th of Sep.
Stood did we, three hundred, defenders of the gilded crown
as the enemy drew closer still, the fields turned solid brown
Who opened the gate to the enemies pens, alas we'll never know
For what it's worth I hope he burns as he's rotting down below
United as we stood that day, we raised our shields with swords to sky
All knowing what lied behind the walls, protected til we would die
Young Elseware in the cradle still, heir of the Kingdom all
His life for ours, all we cried, protect the castle wall
And so they came with all their might, Pesters of the Open World
With battle cries to ice the veins, the first attack they hurled
We fought the Tribble horde that day, on the slopes of Ranger hill
went from three to two to one, cry crow, we fought them still
we fought them left, we fought them right
we fought them all through out the night
as dawn came creeping we killed the last
and viewed the blood soaked battle field so vast
Fallen, had Shadowbane, young Lord of Evergreen
Fallen, had Camaral of Creed, daughter of the Elven Queen
Last of her line, the elves were gone, or so the story goes
Fallen, had Magared, keeper of the Golden Bow
Fallen, had Will Bardoo, teacher of the Mighty Blow
Their blood was spilled on slopes where flowers no longer grows
Left of us were three and score, breathing still the air
Left were we, survivors few, Tellers of Despair
Let the memories of this faithful day survive the age to come
Tell all about the heroes proud, that fell to the battle drum
We held the line we faithful few, defenders of the gilded crown
Will and Badael, Milla, Sil and many more and I, the proud McGown

Talking to StormWind

Jester Valley Alliance

The page is now at User:Jester Valley Alliance. BlaisedeC 15:57, 21 April 2006 (BST)

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