He sits atop his lofty spire
He grooms his fine jet-black attire
From there, on his castle proud and tall
He gazes upon his humble thralls
Most kingly crow! you stand so proud
We hear your royal bans so loud
The lesser birds, they bow before you
Underneath your rule, they respect and adore you
Your slender beak, your supple wing
Are the envy of ev’ry living thing
Who dares to take your life away?
The royal crow is here to stay!
Through freezing fog, you stand out clear
Through my window, your call I hear
Who else will hear this royal summons?
For whom is it intended?
Here she comes, your bride to be
From her own palatial tree
To join in holy matrimony
And rule the air benevolently
Away they soar, in graceful flight
To places far from human sight
But yes, they too must one day die
Our feathered friends who rule the sky.
– The Spideron, 1993