Trogdor!

Trogdor!

Trogdor was a man

I mean, he was a dragon man

Or maybe he was just a dragon
But he was still Trogdor!

Trogdor!

Trogdor!
Burninating the countryside,
Burninating the peasants
Burninating all the peoples
And their thatched-roof cottages!
Thatched-roof cottages!
Whoa, this has wicked dueling guitar solos

It’s like squeedly versus meedley over here

Go squeedly!

Go squeedly!

Squeedly wins!
When all the land is in ruins

And burnination has forsaken the countryside

Only one guy will remain

My money’s on

Trogdor!

Trogdor!
And the Trogdor comes in the night . . .