As I grab some snow berries from a crate on the shelf
I take a look at my bag space and realize there's nothin' left
Cause I've been mining and chopping so long
That even my hirelings think that my mind is gone
But I ain't never skinned a creature that didn't deserve it
Buy my armor from the guild store you know that's unheard of
I refuse to score my gear from dudes in General hawking
Weighed down with so much crap I get winded walking
Tried moving all this junk over to my different alt's packs
Logged in to find them dead from a suicide pact
The Eight they must either be stupid or maybe just cruel
They can make talking cat-men but forgot to make mules?
Some of you will say 'just buy saddle bags'
I had a beautiful horse, now she's a broken down nag
Got her stomach on the ground from all the ore I hoard
And you don't want to know where the gems are stored
Been spending most my days, praying for inventory space (x4)
Edited by Mercutio on 13 September 2014 14:49 The problem with arguing with a jackass is that they never stop braying.
*
#DwemerLife