Vagabonds from Digler Stissy by Manfred Tyreese

Oh no, no, exorcise the triceratops.
Shoot me down with a volley of arrows.
Toot the horn that calls them home.
Send the troops home,
But some don't have a home!
Some only roam.
Brain matter overload.

Vagabonds.

Oh yes, yes, the triceratops prevails.
How do you measure success?
Put the hero to the test.
All the green must mean we're blessed,
Apart from the fog rising from the west.
Dinosaur existentialist.

Vagabonds.

The priest stood on top of the hill.
Lightning struck down, and the masses stood still.
From the dark stormy clouds rose the figures
Of the dinosaurs long before.
They called the soldiers home with their:
*dinosaur noises*
Dinosaurs.

Triceratops.
Vagabonds.
Dinosaurs.

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