One fateful morn,
A child was born, In June of 63,
To be a master string-smith,
His destiny would be
The metal gods pulled out all stops
And give him tasty skills,
With flying picks and big high kicks,
He dishes out the thrills
Hail The King Of Sweden
Ten feet tall with giant hands
And fire in his eyes,
He has a mane of purest silk,
We're tellin' you no lies
A lot of t***s play fender strats,
But he is the exception,
He makes it cool because he rules,
And gives us all erections
Hail The King Of Sweden
With a wall of Marshalls
He owns the f****** stage,
But bathe him in green or blue
He'll burn up with rage,
For those colours,
So I'm told,
May detract His glory
So listen well my metal friend,
Or He'll unleash the fury...
Hail The King Of Sweden !
A child was born, In June of 63,
To be a master string-smith,
His destiny would be
The metal gods pulled out all stops
And give him tasty skills,
With flying picks and big high kicks,
He dishes out the thrills
Hail The King Of Sweden
Ten feet tall with giant hands
And fire in his eyes,
He has a mane of purest silk,
We're tellin' you no lies
A lot of t***s play fender strats,
But he is the exception,
He makes it cool because he rules,
And gives us all erections
Hail The King Of Sweden
With a wall of Marshalls
He owns the f****** stage,
But bathe him in green or blue
He'll burn up with rage,
For those colours,
So I'm told,
May detract His glory
So listen well my metal friend,
Or He'll unleash the fury...
Hail The King Of Sweden !