You are a lice,
You don't deserve our prize
Never again shall we offer our rice
To an insect who knows not our price

Next season, we shall all rise
With one shadow to shun their lies,
So we can save our dearest crops.

We are tired
Of all these hardship,
From the insects leadership,
that hath wreck their havoc on our field

O, all farmers, arise from thou slumber
As the armor sleeps in our hands,
Let's wake them,
And drive away the evil pests

© Enyis Shakes