Red arrows from the left, green arrows from the right
Mixing together, as they take flight
Not falling, just swirling, piercing
The ugly hinged leg of a fly
The arrows chase the quick little guy
Red and green by thousands fly
Through the large space filled with delicate flowers
And angry swatting giants having fun and games
But the fog of arrows blind the little friend
Who doesn’t want much, just a little lunch
But only offered a red and green hell
As their dinner begins, at the ring of a bell