Varg had been a very bad boy, a very naughty boy indeed,
Playing metal, burning churches, and making Euronymous bleed,
He had been caught and tried in court, and the Hammer of Justice fell,
"We will jail your sorry bottom, for how long, well, we cannot tell";
'Twas his time to repent and redeem, his rebellious mind to quell,
Alas, Vikernes thought, "Go to Hell"
Days were long and the nights lonely, but Varg kept himself defiant,
"When I get out, I'll show those bastards and become a Pagan Giant";
He read and he wrote many a book, and trained to keep his youthful look,
Prayed Odin to cut him some slack, to let him out to pay things back,
But time was too slow and boring, Varg felt he'd been stretched on a rack,
Nightly, in tears, he hit the sack
On a sleepless night in Varg's cell, he got a visitor from Hell,
With a mighty smell of sulphur, and the ringing of Hell's great bell
Odin came to greet him and chat, to command his favourite chap,
Towing a bullet-holed Vidkun, and trailed by the pale ghosts of yore,
Varg wanted to join them right then, to make the ghastly crew one more,
But Odin laughed, "Not yet my son"
Varg fell on his knees and begged, "Dad, grant me the crown of Norway",
"I'll keep discipline of iron, convert people back to Your Way!"
But Odin laughed and the walls shook, and he gave Varg a trickster's look,
"I shall grant you an artefact, more mighty than the crown, in fact,
worth a hundred crowns of Norway, hope it arrives in mail intact",
"So make good use of it, my boy"
In the morning, as Varg woke up, a guard came with a largish box,
Quoth "'Tis for you, by mail-order, now be a nice boy, change those socks",
Hands trembling, Varg tore the cardboard, expecting an armour and sword,
But he was completely at loss, as he saw the gift from his boss,
The artefact was black and white, called Casio, and kind of gross,
Quoth the price tag, "100 crowns"...
So Varg played 'till his fingers bled, time became a stone-filled sled,
Did his very best, tried and wept, played all the time unless he slept,
But the Casio made a bleep, a horrible honk and a beeb,
Varg's desperation knew no bounds, but, determined, he pushed on
Played, occasionally despaired, composed, bone-headedly strode on
Cursed, but still prayed to Lord Odin
He completed his masterpiece; It reeked of ancient Stilton cheese
Varg got a few tears in his eyes, when he thought of the thing's release,
He would be laughed at by his pals, abandoned by Norwegian gals,
And there was no pride in his soul, the album was tryly quite foul,
Not loved even by its creator, the MIDI was cute as a ghoul,
And still, some idiots bought it...
Look at it any way you wish, Daudi Baldrs stinks like a fish
Ain't ambient or metallish, it's a wholly untempting dish
Vangelis, master of the trade, will spends days rolling in his grave
While he's still alive, he does know, synth music shouldn't be a joke
Or be any stress reliever for a desperate inmate bloke
...and, (grumble), neither should metal...
So don't listen to it, young man, leave it there in the bargain bin
Since from the metal point of view Vikernes committed a sin
Releasing abominations, unleashing worthless creations
With no connection to metal or nationalist idealism
This is only, pure and simple, a deprived man's commercialism
Selling his records from the jail
Meanwhile, away in Valhalla, Odin laughed and spilled his mead,
The trickster watched Varg crying and shook his iron-crowned head,
as the joke had been successful, and Varg's new album truly dull
The tears of laughter filled his eyes, on the floor he laughed off his ***
He had known Varg couldn't do it without a guitar, drums and bass
Baldur's Death ain't music of class
'Twas a painful experience, to hear Varg's mental decadence,
To listen to this lousiness, wholly devoid of metalness
Not a single good song on it, and nothing resembling a hit
Shall I ever feel drawn to it, is there interest to admit?
Will I again listen to it, or, Heaven forbid, enjoy it?
Quoth Napero, "Nevermore!"
Hahaha, ****ing awesome.
Though, Daudi Baldrs wasn't meant as a metal album. Varg was a baby since he couldn't use a guitar, so he pretty much renouced the whole (black) metal scene calling it retarded (or whatever it was he said).
Funny thing is, he was supposed to be released this month. Because of that he went back on his words and is now hoping to create another album similar to Filo.
sum that up in one sentence.
Varg goes to jail, Odin gives him a keyboard, varg makes ****ty album.
I Lol'd. And I only had to read one sentence. I win.