Yay! Bedtime story! (Yay!)
Read the book, damnit!
Alright, calm down, calm down
This is an ancient tale from many snapshots ago
Long before version 1.19
In the middle of the village was a household
A little different to the others, they weren't as cold
So let's go down below to meet the only townsfolk made out of snow
He was a clown, you know
Loved pranking, bro
Suddenly pouncing, making people round say, "Oh!"
His name was Bob
And his daily job was guarding the town nightly a eight o'clock
But Bob got so bored that he'd lobbed snowballs at the locals
And although all snow that was thrown here was frozen
Nobody really thought it was so cool
Wasn't the most socially appropriate mode of approaching the folk
Who would go to the law court to report that he broke rules
Had a vote, and of course, they'd enforce he be stonewalled
He was caged and afraid, he would wave and say, "hey" to the kids
Parents shaking their heads and they would make them look away
Just as if he didn't exist
And so Bob made the decision to begin making amends
Said sorry mama, never meant to hit you
Never meant to make you cry
So could I be freed now
I promise that I will throw no snow
I'll go home, keep it on the low, low
So, this town isn't a no-go-zone no mo'
Just a cup of cocoa
And a ho-ho-ho
No po-po, yo
Just a nice, time (ah)
Though, uh-oh, yo, it's the night time (ah)
And once the sunset's done
The undead come, so be afraid
They're such a hungry bunch
They want to munch and eat your brains
Nowhere to run and hide
No, they'll just come inside
Wherever you put your bum, they're going to come and find you
But Bob noticed the bloody loud commotion
Would have dove in, but wasn't allowed
The townsfolk just forbode him
It was foreboding to know
That he couldn't go, no chucking snow
So he felt frozen
The zombies closed in, it was as though
They were hunting for something, enclosures were opened
Pumpkins were jumped, there was no clear motive but phobia
Punching a pumpkin is odious
Bob took umbrage at his bros being broken
And broke those oaths that he won't throw snow
He was ready to bury any undead in the area with a
Bo bo bo bo bo!
Go home zombies, ain't it obvious?
We don't want 'em
We got them good, got them gone and with no problem
So the folk bestowed honours and wrote heroic songs
In honour of Bob the snow golem
And although they were so fond of him, doted on him
They couldn't condone lobbing snow with no punishment
He was thrown back inside like Bo Burnham
Was trapped in an iron and stone column
No comment
How could you live knowing you've done it?
Have you no honour?
Got me stuck here 'til the midsummer?
That's some folk horror
Folks want to go on about having free will
'Til you put them in a crowd more than three, then they're evil
That's when Bob said, "Well then I'll be damned
If I let the crowd mentality get me down"
I'm planning to throw down
You turned me barbaric like a snowcone Conan
Now feel the wrath of the snowman
Brap brap brap!
Run home and close the doors
I'm chucking frozen balls at you with no remorse
You could have brokered peace
But now you've chose war
I'll suffer no defeat, 'til very person falls
So every player be warned this is the perfect storm
And 'til the weather's turning warm
I'll lob those snowballs at the locals 'til there are no more
What happened to him, where is he now?
Oh, he is still out there, waiting
Waiting? Woah, what do, what do you mean by waiting?
Waiting
Anyway, goodnight!
Waiting? No, no, no, come back, come back! No!