We all are huddled in unison, united in our plight, though the night is young, the account is old, we all must fight the fight.

We all are huddled in unison, around the burning stove, be brave, they said, be brave, to which we all are loathe.

Strength in numbers is what we were told, so here we tell our tale, support our others, who are really the bold, and have their chronicles to regale.

Gypsy weeps in the corner, weeping for the day, for when our fight is over, the pain we can allay.