From whence com’st thou to trouble my sights
And with my mind with you incessant fights
Be thou either shade or man I hereby demand
Declare yourself to be friends or foe lest I take a stand
Thrice I called out to you across the Styx an unbeliever
Drunk off of a bottle of stolen liquor
If you had heard and returned her back as I said
Perhaps I wouldn’t have laid siege to leave behind scores of dead
To where goes thou but to the city of gold
Searching for the bones of the kings of old
it is said that he who can survive past the drums and fife
Will be celebrated with rum and rewarded eternal life
Little Borrowers 