Growls and snarls emerge from the East,
It’s a mess of teeth and claws.
The land there is ruled by savage beats,
With scaly skin and gaping maws.
The West is nothing but sunstroke,
Barren hills of lost bones and sand.
Such great heat it turns air to smoke,
With evershifiting pieces of land.
The South shivers with warfare;
Bullet shells litter the streets.
Shots ring out and sirens blare,
In a mess of broken hearts and concrete.
But we will stand strong against any threat,
Brace ourselves when evil steps forth.
We’ll cut our loses and pay our debts,
Before we march our souls to the North.