A gray and mournful day
The kind of which on funerals lay
This misty sheet of moisture fall
Down on gray and mournful all
Who, clothed in black and boring cloak
Are sullen, sad, and sunken folk.
Mortuary's dance and frolic whence
The sun is blocked and rain commence
For now does business swell and bloom
When the living sway and swoon
Down to hell if not first saved
By the dirt floor of a grave.
Be spared this fate ye living few,
Act with haste upon this coup
When arrows fall from high heaven,
When our enemy fastly beckon,
Deploy, deploy our sole defensive
Umbrellas bounce and spring to action.
Unyielding black umbrella's attempt
To hold the heavn'ly armament
But yet it is to no avail,
The troops begin to fail and fail.
Bodies limp and faces sleek
Gnarled limbs wet and bleak,
Die in the onslaught ever falling
Fast in sheets of dampness galling,
Out flanked, out numbered, umbrellas swirling
For their children and wives yearning,
The troops by the thousands succumb.
But what did that great warrior state,
If beat them not, then join them late,
And so we must if to survive
To drop all grievances aside
And ask our wet foe to befriend
Those who for years paved o'er their land
And on bended knee to plea
A thousand years of clemency
On one condition tis employed
If all umbrellas be destroyed.