Sea Lochs run deep on western shores

where the broken timidly retreat,

where executives turned bar-room bores,

their dullard stories repeatedly repeat.

 

We’ve heard it all before

their lives like boomerangs,

that’ll knock them to the floor

awakening anguished pangs…

 

Here, the workers immerse themselves

in natures taciturn,

enlightened it is they themselves

that from greater forces learn…

 

where wind and waters blow and swell

till bloated egos drown,

there is no word that man might tell

to tame The Verdant Crown.