A band of thieves rode from the south
On horses shod in shining plate
And foaming at the mouth
Ten million ants a day had died
Under a clanking column of old checkmates
Fears glorified
A band of cut-throats in the north
Heard rumours of this hoard of steel
And quickly sallied forth
With swords and families at their side
And no T.V. escape from poor Wallace's ordeal
Wounds still gaping so wide
Among the thieves there ranked a lover
Not given over
To letting relationships suffer
And restlessly he charged this cut-throat chief
Who rose in his saddle and split the fool's head down the middle
Portending great relief
Which both sides let to drown a power
Down drains of evolving solutions
Deciding for an hour
The leader of the thieves he fled to hide
Hotly pursued by his own last execution
His body on fire inside
The swelling forces of our nature
Changing the surfaces of the planet's
Chemical nomenclature
Blows cool gases as continents slide
And wheat falls where the sticky iron shelf meets
The atmosphere outside