here they come, shaking in their bootsthey'll be skipping stones with your boneswhen these ants knowwhere to find youand steal all your thunderthe windows will shutterand i'll wear a tiewere you shaking in your boots?did it scare you half to deathwhen you saw the falling arrows?won't that be a sight?here they come, attached at the hipswallowing swords when they soarnow my clones knowwhere to find youyour bread and your butteryour dim flying colorswill both pick a sideand i'll wear a tiewere you shaking in your boots?did it scare you half to deathwhen you saw the falling arrows?did you stop dead in your tracks?or join the whole stampede,just to keep from spilling over?won't that be a sight?