I thank thee God, that I have lived
In this great world and known its many joys:
The songs of birds, the strongest sweet scent of hay,
And cooling breezes in the secret dusk;
The flaming sunsets at the close of day,
Hills and the lovely, heather-covered moors;
Music at night, and the moonlight on the sea,
The beat of waves upon the rocky shore
And wild white spray, flung high in ecstasy;
The faithful eyes of dogs, and treasured books,
The love of Kin and fellowship of friends
And all that makes life dear and beautiful.

I thank Thee too, that there has come to me
A little sorrow and sometimes defeat,
A little heartache and the loneliness
That comes with parting and the words 'Good-bye';
Dawn breaking after weary hours of pain,
When I discovered that night's gloom must yield
And morning light break through to me again.
Because of these and other blessings poured
Unasked upon my wondering head,
Because I know that there is yet to come
An even richer and more glorious life,
And most of all, because Thine only Son
Once sacrificed life's loveliness for me,
I thank Thee, God, that I have lived.

There's a parade in me kitchen, not of proud men in hats
But of tiny black insects, marching like bureaucrats
I've tried every trick, from spray to sticky traps
But these six-legged squatters, they're clever little chaps

Oh, the ants go marching one by one, hurrah, hurrah
They've claimed me sugar bowl, and now they want me honey jar
I've waged a losing war, against this arthropod corps
But the ants keep marching, one by one, hurrah

I've laid out poison, placed boots 'round every leg
Of table and chair, like some mad peg-legged peg
But they build their bridges, with bodies of the dead
These kamikaze crawlers, have gone straight to me head

Now I've had an epiphany, as I watch them toil away
Cleaning up me crumbs, like a free maid service, hey!
So I'll put down me weapons, and with them I'll coexist
If you can't beat 'em, join 'em - I'm now a Myrmecologist!

The ants keep marching, one by one
In me kitchen, the battle's done
We've reached a truce, some might say it's daft
But at least now, the floor's spotless fore and aft!