Slimy Great Old One [to the tune of ‘Pencil Thin Mustache,’ with sincere apologies to Jimmy Buffett]


Now they’re raisin’ horrors from out of the night,

spreadin’ ravin’ madness that no one can fight,

when the stars are right, and the world’s in a rage,

there’s monsters left and right on the cosmic stage.

I wish I knew a slimy Great Old One,

The Great Cthulhu kind, or a

puke-green shoggoth that crushes its masters,

while Hastur curses people who mention his name.

Ia! I remember bein’ human, not very finny,

changin’ to a Deep One, not Azathoth’s dinny.

Ia! I wish I knew a slimy Great Old One,

then I could cause some madness too.

Ia! It’s Yuggoth, Carcosa, the Plateau of Leng,

no blinkin’ at the things I see.

It’s because I have no eyelids, except the nictitating,

and only human cultists were sacrificed while gating, Ia!

Ia! I wish I knew a slimy Great Old One,

then I could cause some madness too.

But it’s splat, plop, noisome flop, travelin’ on a Byakhee,

the zombies are a-rotten, and the brains they ate forgotten,

with mighty incantations callin’ Things from the sea!

Ia! Now I’m gettin’ ancient, no longer have hair,

I can’t pass for human, and I don’t really care;

But I can visit Innsmouth and lurk about there,

like the mortal I used to be.

That’s why I wish I knew a slimy Great Old One,

the Great Cthulhu kind,

or a puke-green shoggoth that crushes its masters,

while Hastur curses people who mention his name.

Ia! Dagon when he ‘wakes will stride out of the sea,

to devastate the surface and enslave humanity.

If I only knew a slimy Great Old One,

then I could cause some SAN loss too.

Ia! Rl’yeh, now sunk beneath the waters,

Ia! I could cause some SAN loss too.

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