Mystical Poo
Written by Heavily Armored Hamster

He doesn't need any armor
He doesn't need any weapons
He doesn't need any rest at all

Poo, Poo, Mystical Poo
I see him fighting along
With only his bare hands

I notice as I clutch
A wooden baseball bat
Yet this Poo
Poo, Poo, Mystical Poo
Goes in swinging
With but two hands

He doesn't need any armor
He doesn't need any weapons
He doesn't need any rest at all

Poo, Poo, Mystical Poo
I saw him take a hit
That knocked him down
Though he wore no armor
He groggily stood up again
While I wasn't paying attention
I was knocked upside the head
And with my valiant armor
Fell to the ground, fainted
Poo, Poo, Mystical Poo
Guess your body's cultivated
No armor for you

He doesn't need any armor
He doesn't need any weapons
He doesn't need any rest at all

Poo, Poo, mystical Poo
We're all so tired
Yet you're still charging ahead
Not asking to rest
Simply taking a drink of water
And eating a bowl of rice
Certainly
Poo, Poo, mystical Poo
You're not fatigable!
It's unbelievable!

He doesn't need any armor
...But I'd give him a sword
.....A sword of kings!
He doesn't need any weapons
...But I'd give him a cloak
.....A cloak of kings!

He doesn't need any rest at all
...If I could give him a title
.....I'd call him King!