What wakes in me my violence knows
far off the pike men watch the breach
and I interred in covers and pillows
am fearful to see the raiders on the beach.
'Twas just last year the rogues embarked
and swore they'd take our shores
said I, "you vicious gremlins, hark!
You dare not feel the wrath of old sores."
Well kept they made their promise felt
and still I feel no shame
nor beg for friends or ask for help
for I achieved my aim.
they may fill up our beach with blood
but I remain the righteous one.
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