Previously published in the Murmurs, Aquaterra's monthly newsletter. Used with permission.
Heavy fighters are mighty and strong
And we hope that you won't take this wrong
But archers are more warm and snugly
They look like men — not tiny and ugly.
While the Heavies are away at war
Who do they leave to mind the store?
When ladies are frightened in the dark of night
Who are we clutching with all our might?
The Archers, the Archers.
In our castles dark and deep
Who watches over us while we sleep?
And when the fighters are all gone
Who are we cuddling to greet the dawn?
The Archers, the Archers.
Don their armor — the fighters must
It makes them smell of sweat and rust.
It's no wonder most ladies would rather
Hold someone who's not in such a later;
The Archers, the Archers.
When Heavies hug us it makes us moan
But not with pleasure — from broken bones.
Ladies don't like to embrace cold steel
We prefer holding someone that we can feel:
The Archers, the Archers.
