I have seen your fat faces
Deep submerged in a sea
And there is nothing in them I fear
I have curled lip for lip.

In dungeons of greasy glass
I have slidden and slipped
Seen the arm swing of your mad machetes
Heard the armed yell of your warriors.

Drunk wine in clover
At the end of the day (or early morning hours)
Rested my butt
And laughed with the best.