Zerglings!!
We Terran troops were scoutin'
One cold and frosty day,
With every step more doubtin'
That trouble'd come our way
We'd low'red our machine guns,
Our flamethrowers left cool,
When suddenly we saw a drip
Of green sulfuric drool.
Zerglings!
Bursting from their hatchings' goo!
Clawing!
To kill their foes and eat them too!
Zerglings!
Anywhere with bloodshed nest!
Zerglings!
Nature always eats the best!
Their eyes all glimmered red
Our luck they hadn't seen us;
If just one had, we'd be dead.
We ran to our commander,
We told him all we saw;
Small comfort there'd be payback
For that great guffaw.
But neither are we dumb.
We left the camp that midnight,
'Cause the Zerg attacked at dawn.
We saw our base in ruins,
We saw our comrades et,
We saw the Zerglings closin' in,
A deadly living net.
Our graves wil not be found,
But buried will we be, in slime,
Pound on purple pound.
But still though we fight 'em;
We all must be insane!
Within some twenty seconds,
They'll feast upon our brains.
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Background:
The only Starcraft ballad I have yet written. It just came to me, It's not even based off a specific mission, just Zerglings in the mist. If anyone's curious, I like to play Zerg and colonize half the map. My policy is to build at every patch of crystal or gas vent I can get to, and get to them before the enemy does. If they find me, I lose the base, and I don't invest much in the way of defenses on them anyway. If they don't find me, soon I've got resources pouring in from all directions and can build whatever the heck I want. The Underling Limit is a constant irritiation.