oh towering spires

Oh towering spires that ring now with song, oh majestic, basaltic, wondrous Yiptlong. You guide our endeavors, we lend you our eyes, your peaks and white snow-caps do blot out the skies. You stand there unmoving, eternal, and stout, your depths they embrace us, you are our redoubt. We mine you for metal, we take of your hide, we venture down fissures that rend you inside. Your waters are fertile, your minerals warm, you give us both springtime rains and harvest storms. You keep the unwanted outsiders at bay, you shelter the friendly and welcome their stay. From you spring forth rivers, that run east and west, we cherish your waters, we love them the best. We vow to protect you, from threats large and small, we've slashed our emissions and built windmills tall. Your waters are sacred, we need them to thrive, they help us feel joyful, triumphant, alive. We lift up our voices, with sentiments strong, and honor you father, who art the Yiptlong. Huzzah.

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