Lyrics
(Verse 1) In the heart of a bustling tavern, where mead flowed like rivers, Lay a relic of old, a fork that defied all shivers. Its tines were as flat as the plains of yore, Forged by dwarven hands, a legend to explore.
(Pre-Chorus) The bards whispered tales by the hearth’s warm glow, Of the fork that could pierce through armor, they’d know. Its handle, sturdy oak, etched with ancient runes, A weapon, a utensil, under the moon’s silver tunes.
(Chorus) Flat Applebee’s Fork, oh, thy destiny entwined, A culinary blade, a warrior’s find. From alehouse to battlefield, you’d roam, A paradox of hunger and war, our home.
(Verse 2) Knights sought its power, their armor clinking loud, They’d duel for a chance to wield it, heads unbowed. “Thou shalt feast upon ribs,” the fork would declare, As it skewered their foes, leaving none to spare.
(Pre-Chorus) The minstrels sang praises, their voices raised high, Of the fork that could flip pancakes to the sky. In the court of King Alethor, it sat on display, A relic of conquests, a tale to relay.
(Chorus) Flat Applebee’s Fork, oh, thy destiny entwined, A culinary blade, a warrior’s find. From alehouse to battlefield, you’d roam, A paradox of hunger and war, our home.
(Guitar solo)
(Verse 1) In the heart of a bustling tavern, where mead flowed like rivers, Lay a relic of old, a fork that defied all shivers. Its tines were as flat as the plains of yore, Forged by dwarven hands, a legend to explore.
(Pre-Chorus) The bards whispered tales by the hearth’s warm glow, Of the fork that could pierce through armor, they’d know. Its handle, sturdy oak, etched with ancient runes, A weapon, a utensil, under the moon’s silver tunes.
(Chorus) Flat Applebee’s Fork, oh, thy destiny entwined, A culinary blade, a warrior’s find. From alehouse to battlefield, you’d roam, A paradox of hunger and war, our home.
(Verse 2) Knights sought its power, their armor clinking loud, They’d duel for a chance to wield it, heads unbowed. “Thou shalt feast upon ribs,” the fork would declare, As it skewered their foes, leaving none to spare.
(Pre-Chorus) The minstrels sang praises, their voices raised high, Of the fork that could flip pancakes to the sky. In the court of King Alethor, it sat on display, A relic of conquests, a tale to relay.
(Chorus) Flat Applebee’s Fork, oh, thy destiny entwined, A culinary blade, a warrior’s find. From alehouse to battlefield, you’d roam, A paradox of hunger and war, our home.
(Guitar solo)