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Lizzie queen, I know you’ll hear my plea

The state of things, it ain’t a pretty scene

Digest the poison, metamorphoses

A chrysalis discarded, collapsing colony

You know the kids are home

You know they’ve got no father

You know they’ve got no sword

You know they’ve got no armor

Depleted feed, we made some enemies

So I petition thee to send a laden fleet

Arms that flood the land with blood