In Cyrodiil, war is waging,
In Cyrodiil, players are raging,
Because we
Crash
Crash
Crash.
The grass glistens red with blood.
The air stinks of gore and mud.
And then
Crash
Crash
Crash.
We strive to see our enemies die.
Instead, we sit, and we cry,
Due to the
Crash
Crash
Crash.
We rush, we strike, but are forced to retreat.
Sadly, our keyboards are all that we beat,
With the
Crash
Crash
Crash.
We curse, we yell, we groan.
We sigh, we sob, we moan,
As we
Crash
Crash
Crash.
Angrily, we shake our fists into the air.
Maddened, we yank out handfuls of hair,
After we
Crash
Crash
Crash.
Players red, yellow, and blue,
Want to kill each other, but all we can do
Is
Crash
Crash
Crash
Furious and wrathful, to the forums we go,
To let every employee of ZOS know
That we
Crash
Crash
Crash.
This game is broken,
But there are no words to be spoken,
Except
Crash
Crash
Crash.
Edited by Arkath on September 21, 2014 7:13PM DC Sorc
Einherjar [EHJ]