The sound of the beating drum,
Just before the darkness comes,
Echos in the ears of men,
Who don't know where they are being sent.
The night bird sings its ominous song,
Matching the crashing of the dong,
When the men look outside their tent,
Bang! The big gun went.
The human leaves begin to fall,
Now this sounds alot like war,
With the thud of each passing beat,
The men, shall, their makers meet.
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