Something lives underneath
A riverbed that's bumping at your feet
Sleeping in until the tide is dead
Then in the afternoon he lifts his head
From the muck he rises up
Lumbering his skin drips in the breeze
Onto orchids growing from his knees
On the banks align the residents
All just to gaze at his magnificence
King swampy how we love thee
No one dared into his kingdom stride
All of those that did straight up and died
But the King his head is prized the most
Ever knowingly they still approach
From the muck he rises up
All the people running terrified
See the rivers streaming from their eyes
No more is a loving pacifist
Squeezing others into bloody mist
King swampy how we love thee