[Lord Fear:]

I'm your only threat

I'm not your only threat

But I'm a little growing threat

But really I'm not actually a threat

But I am

I am scary and am outperformed the ice witch

Who tried to freeze me through

Have a little burnt Howse in your bowl

Not to make you miss an appointment

Say I'm the only fly in your ointment

Have a little burnt Howse in your bowl

I have a secret to tell

One day I blocked all the wells

'Twas a simple message to adventurers in castles and dells

Made the dungeon listen to me

There's new opposition you see

My name is Lord Fear and I don't like U-N-I-T-E

My story will not end

Massive harm I do intend in every quest

I'll be wary if you start becoming quite kitsch

Oh but until you do

Have a little burnt Howse in your bowl

Though a perfect rhyme is more healthy

Say I'm the only bat in your belfry

Have a little burnt Howse in your bowl

[Bhal & Shebah:]

I'm a lonely blend

I'm not a lonely blend

But there's a little growing trend

For dragons who are badly round the bend

And I am

[Lord Fear:]

And the old, old opposition

He was hardly on a mission

He stood by rocky paths and kept on laughing pointlessly

It all became a bit trite

Should've used more catacombites

Not just falling masonry and countless scheming cavernwights

Mogdred, you wore a dress

Treguard had had his fill! Now I'm here

When you're airborne then I doubt you're not a flight risk

For now, it's ground for you

Have a little burnt Howse in your bowl

Not to take a moment and spoil it

Say I'm the only streak in your toilet

Have a little burnt Howse in your bowl

While you're at it

Give the frightknights something from the

Burnt Howse in your bowl

Not to make you still more unbalanced

Say I'm the only crust on your talons

Have a little burnt Howse in your bowl

Hands is hairy and old Lissard has a slight twitch

So now I favour you

Have a little burnt Howse in your bowl

Not to cause delay to your dining

Say I'm the only cloud with no lining

Have a little burnt Howse in your bowl

In the Mireworld is Maldame, a right b*tch

Just wait 'til she meets you

Have a little burnt Howse in your bowl

Though my ditty couldn't seem odder

Now I have said Disgrace before fodder

Get a load of burnt Howse down your hole