Lyrics
Created for AI:Umbrella's - May the Fourth Contest. Challenge is to write a Mos Eisley style (you decide what that means) cantina song about the forces of good versus evil. ------ A quick word from the establishment: No blasters. No sabers. No prophecy at the bar. Tabs paid nightly. Republic credits accepted under protest. And if you are currently overthrowing a government, please do so quietly. Down by the docks where the dewbacks cough, And the smugglers sell dreams with the numbers filed off, A monk in a robe and a lord in chrome Both came in thirsty and far from home. One said, “Justice.” One said, “Power.” Both said, “Make it a double, we’ve had quite the hour.” The band kicked in with a squeal and a splash, And the barkeep said— The Light Side pays in cash. Good wears brown and evil wears black, Both leave sand on the welcome mat. One says “hope,” one says “fear,” Both owe three credits for the beer. Hey! Hey! Trade embargo, temple ash, Death Star plans in a paper stash. Sing it loud, but don’t sing rash: The Light Side pays in cash. Cash, cash, credits or spice, No more Death Stars, we’ve rebuilt twice. Cash, cash, credits or spice, Good and evil both pay full price. There’s a tax droid counting every shot, Says, “Charity deductions? I think not.” The Jedi waved his hand real slow, But the droid said, “Sir, that trick’s deductible, no.” A senator’s cousin with a blockade scheme Was taxing the foam on the blue milk cream. A Jawa yelled “Utinni!” and stole the glass, While evil called it “necessary mass.” Good wears brown and evil wears black, Both leave sand on the welcome mat. One says “peace,” one says “kneel,” Both want discounts on the combo meal. No refunds! Trade embargo, tariff clash, Death Star shadow, saber flash. Heroes, villains, all talk trash: The Light Side pays in cash. Oh, the Force may bind the stars and stones, The bones of kings and the clone war clones, But it won’t bind a tab when the tab comes due, And it won’t clean bantha grease off booth twenty-two. So pick your side, but pick up the check, Don’t leave morality out on the deck. A halo’s nice and a helmet’s flash, But the Light Side still pays cash. Good wears brown and evil wears black, Both leave scorch marks down the back. One builds hope, one builds fear, One builds moons that disappear. Boom! Trade embargo, temple ash, Tax collectors, saber clash. Sing it loud, but don’t sing rash: The Light Side pays in cash. Cash, cash, credits or spice, No more Death Stars, we’ve rebuilt twice. Cash, cash, credits or spice, Good and evil both pay full price. And whoever parked the bantha in bay seven: That is not a diplomatic vessel.