Patterns
 

Once a man had a fleet
with many thousand men
he landed on a sunny beach
someplace he'd never been

And the people dressed up strange
but their streets were paved in gold
And so a war was waged
but his guns shot down them all

Mistakes rust through the years
the gold has become black
and now the war is here again
with the people still in last

only Wordsworth can get away with awkward word order. Meter isn't the most important thing.

Wadsworth?

@_@

i always do that... GRR.

thats wierd, because i dont find it awkward to sing at all.

wait a second: I did mean Wordsworth: William Wordsworth, not Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.