The fog so dense that thy hawk’s eye can not see
The frog jumps through breathlessly
The trees bow down in amazement
For they have stood there all there life
And have never seen a soul brave enough
To conquer the fog of the swamp
With none but there bare hands
Of thee I sing,
through the hardy mangrove that protects the swamp and
It’s infamous fog coating the trees that bow their heads
Of thee I sing, of thee I sing.