When the raiders ships hit the shore
Will you sit back because you set traps?
Or will the sight of sails shake your core
Though without permision you exist still the world insists you do your part
Whether pesemist or rich you have a job it's time to start
We all must earn the ditch in which we rot as another number on a chart
We're a dog pulling a load of thugs wearing golden chains in a shopping cart
The witness screams "He looks sick he needs a vet."
"Nah, he hasn't even broke a sweat."