Armor and Flight - Abney Park

He could fly, it was his job

Across the battlefields, and the bloody bogs

He spread his wings, and took to the skies

And he was safe every time he flied

But there were some who could not fly

And to see him soar always made them cry

So they’d shoot their jealous arrows

They cut him down, they were such nasty fellows

Occasionally, they would hit him

And the pain would burn a hole into his skin

So he built some heavy armor

And each time it was hit, it would only make him calmer

Eventually, it weighed him down

So much weight, he could neither smile nor frown

And his wings lacked the strength to fly

So he spent his days dreaming of the sky