wondered what the children thought as they gathered up their things,
And what their parents prayed for or if they prayed at all.
As the forlorn company trudged along a trail of forsaken dreams,
Dirty and bedraggled in search of better days.
And who are these fair people for they could be you or I,
And what age of man has turned them out past banners flying high?
And who has sacked their city? They stand proud upon the field!
What brought this change of fortune? This strikes me as unreal.
It could be Erad-Gorn. It could be gilded Troy.
It could be proud Jerusalem-- the song remains the same.
Constantinople lays wasted, Romes gates a dusty wreck,
Nubian desert horror or Atlantians lonely grave.
Yea from Erad-Gorn to God knows where the children walk this trail.
As the beast keeps watch upon his prize with bright teeth and flicking tail.
While grieving parents lucky enough to live can only wonder at their fate.
As the children keep on marching while the Dragon guards the gate.
Who hatched the egg and kept it safe? For it was the last one so they say.
And had they not kept vigil the beast would be absent to this day.
And not walking proud upon the land his thirst not nearly sated.
But because of him and what he does our sorrow seems almost fated.