Yes, it’s true that they all look like warthogs.
But, by God, they all play like warthogs too.
Fierce Vikings striking civilian bases.
Each gig: A village pillaged much too fast.
Helpless ears ache as music gores and tusks.
Backstage, groupies line up like valkyries.

Skies part to welcome hordes of valkyries.
Valhalla: Ripped by this tribe of warthogs.
Bystanders perish swift on ogre’s tusks.
Innocents can’t escape, though they need to.
Foreboding clouds rock and roll dark and fast.
Amps: Loud enough to show gods what bass is.

They know Loki on a first name basis.
Who Odin smites, is loved by valkyries.
These monsters play on, motorcycle-fast.
And backstage they rest as plump as warthogs.
Fair-haired maidens surrender two by two.
Warriors fall, and three grin barring tusks.

A new town welcomes sounds of hooves and tusks.
Echoes of earthquakes rattle home bases.
Raiders seek a new sky to split in two.
They flee distant storms, tailed by valkyries.
They: Bloodthirsty as a pack of warthogs.
They brushfire crowds and leave just as fast.

As drums thunder, they plunder hard and fast.
They shred sound-waves in a blizzard of tusks.
Onlookers gasp at the rage of warthogs.
Animal control retreats to bases.
Mouths roar revealing swords of valkyries.
They come armed with lightning and war-axe too.

Each village brings targets to tear into.
Women, clouds, and crowds – all fall loud and fast.
The play thunder and summon valkyries.
They cut through stone with rhythms sharp as tusks.
Gargoyle wings answer plucked strings on basses.
They are deviant black leather warthogs.

Fire-snorting warthogs helm valkyries.
Behooved, the stampede moves, all hooves and tusks.
The bass is way loud, but never too fast.