Sprinkled by the trappings words that make the outlines Blur on the showplace that made history The folk is willed To parrot the dished tale The lure of a meaning
Cheat, you had to create An enemy stereotype To retrieve your absolution A forthy poor excuse for your foray disengage from deeps of your encumbrance
March in with ten legions Whilst the crucial weapon's not pillum But the feather held in your hand Penned in Your tall tales rule the forum Altering it into the battlefield
I, the spectral guise these baring fears Pestering your conscript fathers smile at my demise and while I die I cherish the roots of my perseverance