Altering songs for ASL: The Weird Al Effect

[johnl]

Excellent Sir!

Please contribute more! It's a song with lots of fun potential.

I love to belt it out in kareoke (sp?) sessions. Mahaps I'll use the new lyrics. Can't sing worth a d**n, though.

 

[Actionjick]

I love to belt it out in kareoke (sp?) sessions. Mahaps I'll use the new lyrics. Can't sing worth a d**n, though.

Wwbitd I was a rather good soprano. Classmate and I chosen to sing Christmas carols for the school board. Then started growing these hairs in the nether regions. So much for a singing career.

Still think I can sing though. Much to the consternation of Actiondebbie and co-workers.

Never tried karaoke though. Don't go to bars. Captain Bacchus, Colonel Cuervo, Brigadier Bacardi and I will belt out the occasional tune though. Some things are best done in private.

 

[Actionjick]

My mother was a tailor
She sewed that new feldgrau
My father was a gunner man
Down in old Rheingau

Now the only thing a gamer needs
is a rulebook and some dice.
And the only time he's satisfied
is when they treat him nice.

 

[The Purist]

...Squad on the run,
Squaaad on the run! (oops, missed that high note)

That damned DM,
and sailor Jick,
can search forevermore!

For the squad on the run...

 

[Actionjick]

...Squad on the run,
Squaaad on the run! (oops, missed that high note)

That damned DM,
and sailor Jick,
can search forevermore!

For the squad on the run...

Now that's funny! Captain Bacchus will be rolling on the floor when he sees it! Usually he's on the floor drunk anyway.

 

[Actionjick]

...Squad on the run,
Squaaad on the run! (oops, missed that high note)

That damned DM,
and sailor Jick,
can search forevermore!

For the squad on the run...

Captain Bacchus thinks it's hilarious.

I do too!

 

[Actionjick]

House of the Hidden Gun continued

I've got one foot in the fac'try
the others on some rubble.
Came seeking glory in Stalingrad
and all I've found is trouble.

 

[The Purist]

Way down south on the River Volga,
The German army has a come a lootin'!
Look away! Look away!
Look away, Stalingrad!

I wish I was in Moscow! Urrah! Urrah!
At Vyazma, we'd make our stand!
And drive our tanks to Smolensk!

In Leningrad where I was born,
Early on one frigid morn'in
Look away! Look Away!
Look away, Stalingrad

I wish I was in Vitebsk! Urrah! Urrah!
At Borisov, we'd drive right through!
And drive our tanks to Warsaw!

On the River Bug, I'd make Gen'ral,
Late that summer of 44!
Look away! Look away!
Look away, Stalingrad!

We'll soon be in the Tiergarten! Urrah! Urrah!
At Konigsberg, we broke right through!
And drove our tanks to the Elbe!

 

[Actionjick]

Way down south on the River Volga,
The German army has a come a lootin'!
Look away! Look away!
Look away, Stalingrad!

I wish I was in Moscow! Urrah! Urrah!
At Vyazma, we'd make our stand!
And drive our tanks to Smolensk!

In Leningrad where I was born,
Early on one frigid morn'in
Look away! Look Away!
Look away, Stalingrad

I wish I was in Vitebsk! Urrah! Urrah!
At Borisov, we'd drive right through!
And drive our tanks to Warsaw!

On the River Bug, I'd make Gen'ral,
Late that summer of 44!
Look away! Look away!
Look away, Stalingrad!

We'll soon be in the Tiergarten! Urrah! Urrah!
At Konigsberg, we broke right through!
And drove our tanks to the Elbe!

Very nice indeed! I'm running dry on ideas so glad to see some funny material from you guys!

 

[Actionjick]

The Buying Hymn of the ASL Public

Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of new boards
We'll be tossing out the vintage, clipping counters to be stored
We shall lose our budget tightning to buy additions to our hoard
His troops are marching on!

Hoarding hoarding whats it to ya
Hoarding hoarding whats it to ya
Hoarding hoarding whats it to ya
His troops are marching on!

 

[Old Noob]

Dust in the Wind (that stormy desert scenario)
The sound of Silence (You rolled what?)

 

[The Purist]

A Grant with No Name

On the first part of the journey
I was looking at a Pz III
There were rocks and shrubs and hillocks low.
There was Sand and Dunes and Deirs

The first thing I met was low Eh-Pee-Cee-Ar
And the sky had no planes
The heat was hot, and the ground was dry
But the air was full of shot.

I've been through the desert
In a Grant with no name
It felt good to be out of the rain
In the desert, you can be on your game
'Cause there ain't no tank for to give you no pain.

La, la, la, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la, la

After two years in the desert sun
My dice began to turn cold
After three years in the desert fun
I was looking at a Tiger One.
And the story it told as the battle unfolds
Made me sad to think I’d be dead.

You see I've been through the desert
In a Grant with no name
It felt good to be out of the rain
In the desert, you can be on your game
'Cause there ain't no tank for to give you no pain.

La, la, la, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la, la

After nine days, I let the Grant run free
'Cause we were now in Sic-i-ly
There were brush and trees and walls and things
Though still sand and rocks and hills

Sis'ly is a desert with some life above ground
And a perfect disguise for guns
Near the city, lies a HIP StuG in a barn
And the panzers will give no love.

You see I've been through the desert
In a Grant with no name
It felt good to be out of the rain
In the desert, you can be on your game
'Cause there ain't no tank for to give you no pain

La, la, la, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la, la

La, la, la, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la, la

La, la, la, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la, la

Now,... too good a classic not to listen to the original version.

 

[Actionjick]

A Grant with No Name

On the first part of the journey
I was looking at a Pz III
There were rocks and shrubs and hillocks low.
There was Sand and Dunes and Deirs

The first thing I met was low Eh-Pee-Cee-Ar
And the sky had no planes
The heat was hot, and the ground was dry
But the air was full of shot.

I've been through the desert
On a Grant with no name
It felt good to be out of the rain
In the desert, you can be on your game
'Cause there ain't no tank for to give you no pain.

La, la, la, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la, la

After two days in the desert sun
My dice began to turn cold
After three days in the desert fun
I was looking at a Tiger One.

And the story it told as the battles unfolds
Made me sad to think I’d be dead.

You see I've been through the desert
On a Grant with no name
It felt good to be out of the rain
In the desert, you can be on your game
'Cause there ain't no tank for to give you no pain.
La, la, la, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la, la

After nine days, I let the Grant run free
'Cause we were now in Sicily
There were brush and trees and walls and things
Though still sand and rocks and hills

Sicily is a desert with it's life above ground
And a perfect disguise for guns
Near the city, lies a HIP StuG in a barn
And the panzers will give no love.

You see I've been through the desert
On a Grant with no name
It felt good to be out of the rain
In the desert, you can be on your game
'Cause there ain't no tank for to give you no pain

La, la, la, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la, la

La, la, la, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la, la

La, la, la, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la, la

Now,... too good a classic not to listen to the original version.

Bravo! Bravo! Encore! Maestro!!

Dude that was a superb rendition. Well done you!!

 

[The Purist]

Me and You and a Scenario or Two

I remember to this day
My first ASL day
And how it stuck in my gamer's soul
Despite the SL rules
Will power made the rule change go
A new tournament told me so
Oh how I wish
I knew then what I know now

Me and you and a scenario or two
Travelin' and livin' off the bar
Me and you and a scenario or two
How I loved being a free man

I can still recall
The sweet sound of a woman’s call
And the morning we got out
Hiking a mountain trail
The Grizzly Bear he made us run
But I’ll be damned if it weren't fun
Another glass of wine
And her smile kept the dice at bay.

Me and you and a scenario or two
Travelin' and livin' off the bar
Me and you and a scenario or two
How I loved being a free man

I'll never forget the day
She said, "Take the game out and go play".
The lights in my eyes made her laugh out loud
But I felt no shame
Though it's only been a year or so
That old game is still rare’in to go
We've gotta get away and get back
To the game again.

Me and you and a scenario or two
Travelin' and livin' off the bar
Me and you and a scenario or two
How I loved being a free man


Yup,... a nudder classic

 

[Actionjick]

Me and You and a Scenario or Two

I remember to this day
My first ASL day
And how it stuck in my gamer's soul
Despite the SL rules
Will power made the rule change go
A new tournament told me so
Oh how I wish
I knew then what I know now

Me and you and a scenario or two
Travelin' and livin' off the bar
Me and you and a scenario or two
How I loved being a free man

I can still recall
The sweet sound of a woman’s call
And the morning we got out
Hiking a mountain trail
The Grizzly Bear he made us run
But I’ll be damned if it weren't fun
Another glass of wine
And her smile kept the dice at bay.

Me and you and a scenario or two
Travelin' and livin' off the bar
Me and you and a scenario or two
How I loved being a free man

I'll never forget the day
She said, "Take the game out and go play".
The lights in my eyes made her laugh out loud
But I felt no shame
Though it's only been a year or so
That old game is still rare’in to go
We've gotta get away and get back
To the game again.

Me and you and a scenario or two
Travelin' and livin' off the bar
Me and you and a scenario or two
How I loved being a free man


Yup,... a nudder classic

The Weird Al force is strong in this one young Jick!

 

[The Purist]

If this thread existed in the late 80's

Squad Leader People

They took the whole Squad Leader Genre
And changed it to this ASL version
Took away our programmed rules
The four rule books and the confusion

They took away our scattered squads
And taught their half squads to our young
And all the rules we learned by rote
Are nowadays in the compost

Squad Leader People, Squad Leader Tribe
So proud to buy, now mad as helllll

They took the whole Squad Leader Genre
And forced us to learn Chapter E
And though I own an orange book
I'm still an SL man deep inside

Squad Leader people, Squad Leader Tribe
So proud to buy, now mad as hellll

But maybe someday they will learnnnn
Squad Leader Genre will return

Will return
Will return
Will return
Will return

Annnnd,... the real song.

 

[Actionjick]

If this thread existed in the late 80's

Squad Leader People

They took the whole Squad Leader Genre
And changed it to this ASL version
Took away our programmed rules
The four rule books and the confusion

They took away our scattered squads
And taught their half squads to our young
And all the rules we learned by rote
Are nowadays in the compost

Squad Leader People, Squad Leader Tribe
So proud to buy, now mad as helllll

They took the whole Squad Leader Genre
And forced us learn Chapter E
And though I own an orange book
I'm still an SL man deep inside

Squad Leader people, Squad Leader tribe
So proud to buy, now mad as hellll

But maybe someday they will learnnnn
Squad Leader people will return

Will return
Will return
Will return
Will return

Annnnd,... the real song.

You are on a roll!!

Still a SL guy deep inside myself. Hard to forget a first love that was so good.

 

[The Purist]

For Octoberfest fans

The Wreck of the Veteran Grognard

The legend lives on from the east and the west
Of the big game they called the Oktoberfest
The game, it is said, never gives up its dead
When the skies of October turn gloomy
With a load of counter trays twenty-six thousand tons more
Than the old Ford Escort weighed empty
That good man though true was a bone to be chewed
When the games of October turn squirrely


This Grog was the pride of the American side
Coming over from some town in Wisconsin
As the big gamers go, he was bigger than most
With a kit and dice set well seasoned
Concluding some terms with the TD most firm
When he left fully loaded for Cleveland
And later that night when the fuel gauge blinked bright
Could it be the north wind he’d been feelin'?


The wind in the pub made a nose wrinkling smell
And the smell broke over the bar rail
And every man knew, as the barkeep did too
T'was the beer of October come stealin'
The dawn came late and the breakfast had to wait
When the dice of October start roll’in
When afternoon came it was cold beer time
In the face of a hard won scenarioooo


When suppertime came, the pub cook came by sayin'
"Fellas, shower before I dear feed ya!"
At seven PM, a cold keg had been tapped, she said,
"Fellas, do you want me to pour ‘emmmm!"
The player text home in he had really bad dice
And his good record was now in deep peril
And later that night when beer ran bone dry
Came the wreck of the veteran Grognard


Does any one know where the love of Gawd goes
When the dice turn the minutes to hours?
The players all say he’d have made the tie-break
If he’d not tak’in that dumb IF shot
He might have tied it up or he might have progressed
He may have won a mighty vic’try
And all that remains are the curses and his shame
To his opponents, his Gawd and his bad manners.


The dice do roll, through the tower they sing
In the rooms of smelly old men
To old dreams of cardboard valour it seems
The caution is to remain a good sportsman
And farther below as the mini’s do go
Tak’in in what relaxed players can manage
And the Grognards go as the ol’ gamers all know
With the games of October remembered


In a musty old room in their den’s they prayed
In each ASL home game cathedral
The church bell chimed 'til it rang many more times
For each loss on this year’s Octoberfessst
The legend lives on from the east and the west
Of the big game they call Octoberfest
ASL, they said, never gives up its dead
When the games of October have no mercy.

Annnnnnd,... the real artist and his work

 

[Actionjick]

For Octoberfest fans

The Wreck of the Veteran Grognard

The legend lives on from the east and the west
Of the big game they called the Oktoberfest
The game, it is said, never gives up its dead
When the skies of October turn gloomy
With a load of counter trays twenty-six thousand tons more
Than the old Ford Escort weighed empty
That good man though true was a bone to be chewed
When the games of October turn squirrely


This Grog was the pride of the American side
Coming over from some town in Wisconsin
As the big gamers go, he was bigger than most
With a kit and dice set well seasoned
Concluding some terms with the TD most firm
When he left fully loaded for Cleveland
And later that night when the fuel gauge blinked bright
Could it be the north wind he’d been feelin'?


The wind in the pub made a nose wrinkling smell
And the smell broke over the bar rail
And every man knew, as the barkeep did too
T'was the beer of October come stealin'
The dawn came late and the breakfast had to wait
When the dice of October start roll’in
When afternoon came it was cold beer time
In the face of a hard won scenarioooo


When suppertime came, the pub cook came by sayin'
"Fellas, shower before I dear feed ya!"
At seven PM, a cold keg had tapped, she said,
"Fellas, do you want me to pour’in ‘emmmm!"
The player text home in he had really bad dice
And his good record was now in deep peril
And later that night when beer ran bone dry
Came the wreck of the veteran Grognard


Does any one know where the love of Gawd goes
When the dice turn the minutes to hours?
The players all say he’d have made the tie-break
If he’d not tak’in that dumb IF shot
He might have tied it up or he might have progressed
He may have won a mighty vic’try
And all that remains are the curses and his shame
To his opponents, his Gawd and his bad manners.


The dice do roll, through the tower they sing
In the rooms of smelly old men
To old dreams of cardboard valour it seems
The caution is to remain a good sportsman
And farther below as the mini’s do go
Tak’in in what relaxed players can manage
And the Grognards go as the ol’ gamers all know
With the games of October remembered


In a musty old room in their den’s they prayed
In each ASL home game cathedral
The church bell chimed 'til it rang many more times
For each loss on this year’s Octoberfessst
The legend lives on from the east and the west
Of the big game they call Octoberfest
ASL, they said, never gives up its dead
When the games of October have no mercy.

Annnnnnd,... the real artist and his work

LMFAO! We've created a monster!!

Really very nice! As Only wan said to young Jick Diceroller the Weird Al force is strong in this one. If only he can avoid the dark side ( of the moon ).

 

[The Purist]

This one is just silly,... but,... it was almost too easy (and its game day tomorrow morning).

These Dice Were Made for Roll'in

You keep saying you got some sort o’ plan
Something you call sure, but confess
You've been guess’in' where you shouldn't have been guess’in'
And now someone else is topping all your best

These dice are made for roll’in'
And that's just what they'll do
One of these days, these dice are gonna roll all over you
Yeah

You keep shoot’in' when you ought to be move’in'
You keep CC’in' when you ought not to Advance
You keep push’in' when you ought to be skulk’in'
Now what's right is right, but you ain't been right yet

These dice are made for roll’in'
And that's just what they'll do
One of these days, these dice are gonna roll all over you

You keep drink'in where you shouldn't be play’in'
And keep those cheesies far away from my set, hah
I've just found me a brand new opponent, yeah
And what he knows you ain't had time to learn (thhhpppptt!!)

These dice are made for roll’in'
And that's just what they'll do
One of these days, these dice are gonna roll all over you

Are you ready, dice?

Start roll’in

And props to Ms Sinatra