Borribles of the Barricades

Beneath the sprawl some outcasts play, A different kind of life, finds its way. Pointed ears mark the ones who roam, They build their clans, they roll the bones. No need for rules, no ties to keep, They own the night while the city's asleep. Born to be free, they defy the grind, Masters of wit and a fearless mind. The Battersea winds tell tales of fame, Of Rumbles defeated, their pride in flames. The law can’t hold what it can't define, Freedom first, The rest left behind. From the lowest alleys to the highest rooftops, They scheme and plan their cunning plots With tricks and traps and a daring grin, Their legend grows as the tales begin. Quick as thought, they strike and flee, Masters of anonymity. Running rings 'round the tallest foe, A hidden life only they will know. Borribles rise, You won't hear their call. Born to defy, They fear no fall. Kings of the streets, Night's renegades Living their own way in the barricades. Through Wendle caves and the Rumbles’ lair, They’ve fought their battles and faced despair. From Clapham Common to Highgate’s hills, They go where they want, Always seeking the thrill. No borders bind, no names to play, Endless mischief, It's their way. As if they make the wild winds sing, Freedom’s the prize for the life they bring. Cut the ropes, untie the sails, The city's alive on forgotten trails. Legends rise as the stories tell, Of Borribles laughing where others fell. Borribles rise, You won't hear their call. Born to defy, They fear no fall. Kings of the streets, Night's renegades Living their own way in the barricades. With pointed ears and a fearless guise, The Borribles live—they refuse to die.