Long, long ago in old Japan
There was a wise and gracious man
He practiced daily with the sword,
And could hold his own against a horde.
He was a Samurai, and a skilled one too
In stressful situations, he knew what to do
In battles raging fifty feet in the air,
He could concentrate in all his fear.
However, the one thing he always feared
Was a Ninja either far or near
Those sneaky spies with limitless tricks
Would always a prominent target pick.
He knew Ninja slinked all around
Some as daimyos with their gold in pounds
Some as simple farmer folk
Men who were slaves or finance-broke.
Ninja were a fearful problem
He wished some man could stop them
He cried to all the gods
To stop those Ninja, those vile dogs.