Thou have come in your shinning armor,
Brighter than the morning stars to the land of living.
The dancing tune of the cockcrow.
As children play hides and seeks. ‘Woof, woof, woof, woof!’
The dogs bark in their locks,
And the elders hustle and bustle around the clocks.
Thou have smiled on us and left us back to your shell,
For night must be revealed in frights.
The birds fly back to their nest,
For all the living must lie back to rest.
As children must moan in their sleep.
‘Gon, gon, gon, gon!’
The voice of the gong.
Harken, as it speaks in alert tone!
Stick yards measure holds by the throngs until the land is atoned.