The Roaming Giants
The Roaming Giants


Giants live on our land
With massive feet and massive hand
Shouting on top of their massive lungs
Louder than any bells we've rung
When these giants go about
Travelling their own merry route
Kids can't even come out and play
Even we have to run and dash away
Wasting rivers and floods of food
Sometimes taking us away for good
Washing us like their huge bowls and plates
Wiping us away like clean slates
We do what we can to survive
Trying to provide for our lovely wife
Some day we shall avenge our fallen brothers
And stick em with the pointy end for our mothers
And that day they shall rue their disgust
For the creatures black and color of rust
They shall hear our mighty chant
We may be small but we are ANTS