George, the Orc Barista: Holy Heals & Hustle Rap

The magical background changes to a church interior, stained glass windows casting colorful patterns. An older priest stands at the pulpit, adjusting his robes when suddenly a beat drops, and he grabs a mic.

Verse 1:

Every day, they come through that door,

Adventurers, warriors, mages galore.

“Father, heal me!” they all implore,

But man, I’ve heard that line before.

Chainmail, plate, and robes so sleek,

Yet every week, they’re lookin’ weak.

Draggin’ in with their tales of woe,

Expecting a heal with the holy glow.

Chorus:

I’m more than just a healer, don’t you see?

Got a soul, a heart, and a theology degree.

But every day, it’s the same old plea,

“Bless me, Father, for I’m HP empty.”

Verse 2:

Paladins with their shiny shields,

Warriors from the battlefields.

Wizards with their arcane might,

All show up, expecting the light.