Rumor has it Sir Walter Raleigh
Is on the chase once more
An expedition of sinking ships
Braziers burning fast upon the shore

Chumming with time's blood
Panning for fool's gold
Wave after wave of repercussion
The future so willfully sold

For one bowl of soup
Like Esau famished from the hunt
Turning to his artful brother
And offering him the forefront

Our crowned jewel in all her tattered
Finery cleaved to the heart
The fabled city forsook
By once trusted hands tearing her apart

Set out the coffins
Sing for us an elegy
In the surf of this funeral march
Be sure to separate corpses from algae