One by one they march,

Tens, hundreds, thousands

Pilaging, looting, ravenous marauders

Marching ever on, destroying, devouring

Through the day, through the night.

What can turn them back?

Is there a wall they cannot climb?

A pit they cannot forge?

Ghengis, Kubla, Alexander, Napolean, are mere students,

They know nothing of your conquering might!

Just one of your soldiers has the strength of ten.

But there are thousands,

And when they pass there are more.

Oh to rid my kitchen of these ants!

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