And from the Lords electric snare
One goes in his electric chair
Lord of Lightning shifts his gaze
Points his strong finger our way
Electricity escapes
Leaves destruction in our wake
His electric trap has electric cyanide
The luckless hostage has been thoroughly fried
Lightning, oh!
Nonagon, nonagon
Nonagon infinity, yes!
And as the cadaver lay static with open crusted eyes
The smoking corpse began to twitch at my great surprise
Then the figure sprung up and at once it caught alight
And the creature known as Balrog was born that very night