George R. R. Martin, please write, and write faster You’re not going to get any younger, you know Winter is coming, I’m growing impatient And you’ve still got two more damn books left to go So write, George, write like the wind!
I curse the day that my friend ever loaned me An old dog-eared paperback called Game of Thrones How could I know that this seed would grow into An addiction that held me, right down to my bones
Now, five books later, I lurk with the masses Indignant, entitled, and waiting for word That the great Bearded Glacier has finally published Nine hundred more pages of crack for the nerds
Why does every new verse of your song Keep taking you so goddamn long?
George R. R. Martin, please write, and write faster please give us boiled leather, and sigils and steel We need our allotment of incest and intrigue And six page descriptions of every last meal So write, George, write like the wind!
Lewis took five years to chronicle Narnia Tolkien had twelve years, and Rowling took ten Lucas spent nearly three decades on Star Wars And we all know how that one turned out in the end
You’re not our bitch, and you’re not a machine And we don’t mean to dictate how you spend your days But please, bear in mind, in the time that you’ve had, William Shakespeare churned out thirty-five friggin’ plays
And if you keep writing so slow You’ll hold up the HBO show
George R. R. Martin, please write, and write faster ‘cause we won’t stop whining until we’re appeased Crap out the chapters-and George, while you’re at it Stop killing our favorite characters, please And write, George, write…like the wind!
(George R.R. Martin, please write, and write faster Before you are dead, George, please write like the wind)
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You’re not going to get any younger, you know
Winter is coming, I’m growing impatient
And you’ve still got two more damn books left to go
So write, George, write like the wind!
I curse the day that my friend ever loaned me
An old dog-eared paperback called Game of Thrones
How could I know that this seed would grow into
An addiction that held me, right down to my bones
Now, five books later, I lurk with the masses
Indignant, entitled, and waiting for word
That the great Bearded Glacier has finally published
Nine hundred more pages of crack for the nerds
Why does every new verse of your song
Keep taking you so goddamn long?
George R. R. Martin, please write, and write faster
please give us boiled leather, and sigils and steel
We need our allotment of incest and intrigue
And six page descriptions of every last meal
So write, George, write like the wind!
Lewis took five years to chronicle Narnia
Tolkien had twelve years, and Rowling took ten
Lucas spent nearly three decades on Star Wars
And we all know how that one turned out in the end
You’re not our bitch, and you’re not a machine
And we don’t mean to dictate how you spend your days
But please, bear in mind, in the time that you’ve had,
William Shakespeare churned out thirty-five friggin’ plays
And if you keep writing so slow
You’ll hold up the HBO show
George R. R. Martin, please write, and write faster
‘cause we won’t stop whining until we’re appeased
Crap out the chapters-and George, while you’re at it
Stop killing our favorite characters, please
And write, George, write…like the wind!
(George R.R. Martin, please write, and write faster
Before you are dead, George, please write like the wind)
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