Prologue chant
Angela
Perhaps I ought to strike out on my own
As my poor wizard surely knows it all
Or somehow feels obliged to lilt high flown
In talking large he squashes me down small
Although hes mostly lost in thoughts unknown
The zero population growth dire pall
Allows him luxury of his self clone
Myself infertile I could boldly bawl
In eerie peace beneath surf waves that pound
Lie treasure troves all types of wrecks
This astrolabe that traverse board I found
Embossed with detritus in punctured decks
The wizard minds a museum hails the hoard
Of artefacts that tax payers cant afford
