The ants, the ants, the marching ants.

Can you hear the marching ants?

They've left no time for play and dance,

They approach and approach with deadly stance.

Millions of tireless marching ants,

They themselves can't comprehend it,

Yet they take leave from the home they had,

To march and march to defend it.

The ants march in to other ants,

They invade large dirt pavilions, 

There's no time to grieve a thousand fallen,

For millions are still millions.

As the dust clears from the grass,

And all ants march to retreat,

A heap of the victorious and unvictorious ants,

Lay the same in defeat.

The ants that see the end of marching,

Must breathe the last of air,

The ants return from where they marched,

Hey, there's more ants over there!