11-12-96

Fiddle Faddle
Prittle Prattle
The famine of disease eat at the cattle
Up high the pestilence rides forth upon its saddle
and as chaos slowly digests this battle
Disaster shakes its warning like a rattle.

Fiddle Found
Prittle Pround
As doom looms forth its sound
and against us all does terror pound
Our greatness is prisoned and tightly bound
With hope and faith all but found.

Fiddle Fide
Prittle Pride
The four horsemen go out and ride
With darkness in front all set in pride
and death behind an chaos at side
and goodness is washed away
         against the tide.