Grung- Frothmire

[Verse 1 – Green Caste (Laborers)] It started with Green, just cleaning the reeds, They found the froth clinging to seeds, One licked a bubble, then saw the sky bend, Declared he was dirt’s only friend. They danced with moss, they sang to mud, Built thrones of frogs and crowned a spud, The caste that once just hauled and swept, Now preaches truths no one has kept. [Verse 2 – Blue Caste (Artisans)] Blue came next with fingers skilled, But Frothmire's call could not be stilled, They hum in chords no ear should hear, Inventing things to harvest more froth with cheer, Their tools now giggle when they break, They forge with whispers, glue, and cake, Their chisels hum, their inks may bite-- They sketch in fog and dream in spite. [Verse 3 – Purple Caste (Warriors)] Then Purple marched with spear and growl, They drank the froth and gave a howl, One kissed his sword and named it “Mum,” Another flexed until he went numb. They fought a tree, then asked its name, They spar with ghosts and play weird games, Now every duel begins with hugs-- And ends in tears or wrestling bugs. [Chorus – Froth and Fury] They storm the swamp in rhyming rows, Declare war on crows and moss that glows, They croak of glory, charge the mire-- All doomed by Frothmire’s ghostly fire. [Verse 4 – Orange Caste (Scholars)] Orange took notes with careful hand, But Frothmire's pull had other plans, They mapped the stars inside a lake, And tried to teach a rock to bake. They wrote a book that writes itself, Filed logic away on a melting shelf, They claim the truth is shaped like fog-- And quote the moon to seduce a log. [Chorus – The Mind Melts] They theorize in screeches and hops, They whisper truth to puddle drops, They’ve found the edge of what makes sense-- And turned it into residence. [Verse 5 – Red Caste (Leaders)] Red declared it was outlawed twice, Then took a sniff (for safety’s price), One made a crown of tangled hair, Declared all frogs must now float in the air. They taxed the mud, then taxed the mist, Built laws that simply don't exist, They led a choir of silent screams-- And slept on thrones made out of dreams [Chorus – Collapse Complete] From throne to root, all drink the gleam, Now croaks are law and thought’s a dream, The castes dissolve, the order’s dire-- All fall, all fall… to Frothmire. [Verse 6 – Gold Caste (Prophets)] Gold came last in gilded sleep, Their eyes half-closed, their thoughts too deep, They drank the Froth with sacred grace-- And claimed to see all time and place. They chanted dreams in molten light, Grew third eyes blinking through the night, They knelt to watch the cattails burn-- And said the the grung would soon return. [Final Chorus – The End Sublime] Now all have sipped, the castes undone, The swamp is loud, the frogs are one, No names remain, just croaking choir-- All fall, all fall… to Frothmire.