We played it clean
In the midst of enemies
And no hem unkept
No stutter or comma cleft
And they hemmorage wit
at a rate until they see
There is no other place to go
No other place to be so alone.
We drew our lines
In the form of pantomime
And it caused a rift
miniscule but pertinent
And they gave us gold
By fortune, fame we're told
We are now
Close to the world renowned
For doing none other than
what we're told