Silverperl

Dink Dink, how our hammers fall!

Beating away, up and down.

With great care, do we shape this fine silverperl.

Beating it into shape, protector of our best.

Contoured to fit our young men and women.

The treasure of our land, the hand of our great Ruler.

Dink Dink, how hard we work!

Hours and hours on the anvil.

So delicate and beautiful a thing, yet so tough.

Stronger and harder than the thickest steel.

Yet our backs grow stronger, our arms get wider.

For tirelessly do we persevere.

Dink Dink, oh what a commotion!

The striking of steel against silverperl.

Enough to stir up half the town.

But as we strike, our eyes are amazed.

As they fall upon the beautiful substance.

Found in the depths of the Boundless Blue.

Scoured and gouged out by our dauntless divers.

Brought to the surface, glistening in the sun.

Crushed and ground and mixed with steel.

Entwined with the fibres to produce a wonder.

Pride arises in us as a new piece emerges.

Handing it over to the officers who come collecting.

And happy are we to see gratitude on their faces.

But no time for toast or rest or leisure.

Dink Dink, begins a piece anew!

And again fall our heavy hammers.

Much do we sweat and tire.

But never stop, for to forge this we have the honour.