The Skatz had used up their precious time ‘ through wasted study of mathematics, philosophy ‘and classical rhyme. Those elusive green Peelers were the new seed riders now ‘ Probably a political fix but no one quite knew how . The Collaborative seahorses that once walked that great northern shore ‘ lent the small Skatz money then told them no more . They’d had their credit fairly or not ‘What ever was left they’d had their lot . Farewell too the Skatz it’s time to Leave ‘a chorus of voice’s a collective of me’s , Off you go and don’t look sad ‘you Skatz are out ‘you’ve turned us all mad . The farewell drummer beat dutifully in time , the long walk had started ‘ they’d formed a line . Beware my friends the retired magician pleaded with tear’s ‘he’d known these Skatz personally for eighty or was it a hundred years . Then As a group they decided to wave ‘ to comfort the old magician who’d protested and raved . The Skatz we’re now leaving ‘and there was really nothing more sad ‘ But it had been a long day ‘and in a way they were glad