The flying daggers
To whom it will hit
It’s no use crying
Get the net ready
Block the flying
daggers
Before it reaches
its target
The opponents will
drink
Shouting loud in the
watering hole
Of the bad they
have done
They drown it in
the bottles of rum
They will point
fingers
As if it is clean
and shine
No sirs of the flying
daggers
The danger of
Brutus in sheep skins
Get the ready the
net
Stop the flying
daggers on its tracks
No comments:
Post a Comment