All roads converge
In Rome, they say
Wild geese do
Stop here on their way
To Libya, to grab a lunch
And to greet their kin
On the Capitol Hill
The church bells do fly
There on the Easter holiday
The weekend to enjoy
And to taste the Dolce Vita
But does the Thirteenth Legion,
Know where it goes,
While marching south
Through January sleet
On Via Flaminia,
Rubicon left past their heels?
I know the dice are cast,
But the men,
Do they know?
Great Caesar,
Respond,
I ask you
Virtuous Gaius Iulius,
Do they know?