In London's grand halls, where riches unfold,
Brave hearts buy homes, though markets are cold.
With valor unyielding, their dread they defy,
Like Odin in battle, their souls touch the sky.

From this Yankish shore, a journey takes wing,
To Plymouth, our hearth, where the Skalds do sing.
The turkey's tale echoes in lore and song,
E'er reminding us, to where we belong.

Hear, hear, the clash of Colt's steely might,
Challenging rivals in commerces fight.
In their quest for power, like Thor's thunder deemed,
Billions they offer, in gold, brightly gleamed.

by Æthelred the Skald

a centaur