When I was a frightened child, I met an anthill inside my yard
That could have never given part of my life trouble
I still found it somehow simple to dismantle
After all, from above the only thing that I could clearly see
Was a mound of dirt by something that had nothing to do with me
I cared little for the parts inside
For all of the work behind the scenes
All the toil those little creators had to do
To make something that could be destroyed by a self-centered fool