The ranks of the old
Move swiftly, gilded with gold
The ranks of the old
Cannot be sold
To any nation, for they stand alone
For any leader who dares try to attack, they have overthrown
Like gilded ghosts
They frighten most
They taunt the people
They take the steeple
The town will fall
The folk will call
For assistance and help
Shouting and yelping
Then the tide
Will sweep all to hide
Drowning and thrashing
Crashing and splashing
Pulled under and choking
All around people in peril, clothes soaking
Everyone will remember this day
When the ranks of old came ready to slay
Like a wave they stormed
Over the stars that formed
So many years ago
All will known
That the ranks of the old
Will triumph for all to behold…