Our Gal, Val --by Bohdan Sirant, 2011 Weve got a gal And her name is Val Shes

not human But a .50 cal --a .50 cal BMG C-15 Never tiring Of precision firing Shes a marksmans dream A long range Shooting weapon Our Voodoo queen A techno-goddess A worshipped machine Shes super sexy Like Marilyn Monroe Only metallic Like J-Lo all aglow Pampered and coddled By our firing team And when she lets loose Man, can she scream Like a banshee from hell In a badasss bad dream Shes one destructive dame Projects wicked woe And excruciating pain To far-off foes Whom she kills or leaves lame Val delivers the goods Whether in open dessert Or mountainside woods Whatever the call Wherever shes lain Weve seen badasses fall Weve seen bad guys slain And what we like Probably most of all Is shes fit, fierce And feisty A real femme fatale We can count on her To win every bet

No matter the distance She hasnt failed yet Whether across a wide valley Or up a hillside steep to yonder ridge Or valley deep Where enemy lurks Or insurgent creeps Adversary hides Or foe lightly sleeps Followed by a retort One thats echoes Really loud That ends in an instant With a puff Of pink cloud A sure sign of success That makes us Weirdly proud Especially when We do it again To take out a crowd Shes an avenging angel The enemy dreads From two thousand metres She can blow off their heads And after several days Of hardship and toil We come back to base To refresh and to laze And to anoint her With sweet-scented solvent and gun oil We sing to her softly And clean her Every single thing From her crisp button rifling To her box magazine Singing. Val, Val, Sweet Val My loving rifle My .50 cal super gal I love your sleek stock And I love your bright scope Youre the one for me So lets elope