What holy cities are to nomadic tribes - a symbol of race and a bond of union - great books are to the wandering souls of men: they are the Meccas of the mind.

G.E. Woodberry

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The Ninjas
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I woke up this morning
And everything was different
Something was strange in the air
I woke up this morning
And everything was different
I knew that the ninjas had been there
 
I looked all around my bedroom
Underneath the dresser
Behind the curtain
But nothing could be found
There was nothing left behind them
No way that I could find them
No finger prints or crumbs on the ground
 
The ninjas are deadly and silent
They're also unspeakably violent
They speak Japanese
They do whatever they please
And sometimes they vacation in Ireland
 
The ninjas are deadly and silent
They're also unspeakably violent
They speak Japanese
They do whatever they please
And if you tear of their mask,
They'll be smiling