Slush Rivers Run By.

The slush rivers run by, going through the gutter,
Carrying with them leaves of a golden hue.
Winter’s early this year.
The slush rivers run by a little mouse den.
Mice equipped, armed to the teeth, riot shields adorn their arms.
Rebelling against humanities destruction and kicking up a fuss.
The slush rivers run by protesting mice? Who’d have thought it.
Tough policing rats, oh how they fight back.
“Stop this madness and go back to your holes,
Your cause isn’t worth fighting for, you’ll just lose numbers,
Which the winter would be sure to do.
You can’t fight global warming or the whole of mankind.
You’ll lose your little mice minds.”
The slush rivers run by as the mice start to go,
But low and behold the leader shouts, “Hold on!
The inevitable is coming and we need to survive!
We need more time to forage for food.”
The rats start forward.
The slush rivers run by, the horde of mice beating a hasty retreat.
As they return to their dens it starts to snow.
They huddle and prepare for the winter to come.
The slush rivers run by the mice doing their best to share,
And the slush rivers freeze and slow to a halt.
The slush rivers run no more.

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