| Lights twinkle in the distance. |
| Roman soldiers holding swords and torches. |
| They come to sack the ports of Troy, |
| the way the Greeks did |
| a thousand years before. |
| They don't come in triremes, |
| they don't come in secret, |
| they don't come in romance. |
| They come in force. |
| They are the Romans. |
| They are the modern Spartans. |
| Can't you see their swords? |
| They all have sharp tips. |
| They'll gut you, they'll loot you, |
| they'll burn down your castle, |
| and then they'll go home to their families. |
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