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Tom Smith
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Temperature of Revenge
I'm a warrior born and a warlord made
To conquer the final frontiers,
But they put my ship in a cryogen dip,
And they froze us for four hundred years.
I was perfect in body and in mind,
Genetically engineered,
Till a pretty-boy captain destroyed all my plans
And the damn rabble neo-fen cheered.
He marooned me on Ceti Alpha Five,
Ceti Six blew up, barely twenty survived,
But I'm back in space and the blood from their faces
Will drain when I finally arrive.
So find me a ship, Reliant will do,
Find me an anchovy covered in goo,
It will go in the ear of a young Russian jerk,
Who will send out a signal to James T. Kirk.
Bring me my lunch, I feel quite starved,
It may look like steak, but it's Kirk's heart I carve,
In the back of your fridge may be ten kinds of mold,
But vengeance is best served cold,
Vengeance is best served cold.
The indignities that I suffered at his hands,
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Those endless unbearable days,
Selling rich Corinthian leather and being
A straight man to Herve Villechaise.
My wife lies buried beneath these sands,
The breath from her body was ripped.
Who believes his claim that he wasn't to blame?
All his buddies were writing the script!
He's an admiral with supplemental pay,
Doing Barbary Coast, selling almost-Parkay,
But my brand of Promise: He'll hope that his Mom is
Around if he gets in my way!
So find me a ship, Reliant will do,
Find me an anchovy covered in goo,
It will go in the ear of a young Russian jerk,
Who will send out a signal to James T. Kirk.
Bring me my lunch, I feel quite starved,
It may look like steak, but it's Kirk's heart I carve,
In the back of your fridge may be ten kinds of mold,
But vengeance is best served cold,
Vengeance is best served cold.
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