De La Grande Bibliotheque de Tamriel
While cliff-racers spread their wings, so broad,
And lesser birds bend their knees, so awed,
You snarl, and hiss, and spit, and screech!
I hear the guars grunting each to each,
"What a terror! What savage speech!"
Oh to be like you.
Your temper flares at the smallest offense,
You snatch our guars and mangle our fence!
You nest in our lofts, spray dung on the wall,
Tear up our roofs like a mid-summer squall,
Frighten our children and make the babes bawl,
Promise you'll never change.
Cliff-strider, stride so high,
On fiery crags, you touch the sky!
Cliff-strider, stride so high,
Screech loud as thunder, may you never die!
You're vengeful and petty like my mother-in-law,
You stink like you've got old fish in your craw,
Your shrieks shatter glass, and rattle my ears,
Your rotten-fig smell brings grown mer to tears,
You piss on our pillows, they smell bad for years,
You're Vvardefell's pride and joy!
Cliff-strider, stride so high,
On fiery crags, you touch the sky!
Cliff-strider, stride so high,
Screech loud as thunder, may you never die!
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