O stalwart shield of the careless and rash
Egyptians of old built cone temples for
you
Orange Angel, you stand, constant and true
Your sacrifice diverting each fatal crash.
What divine hand shaped your perfect form?
What gods stole your color from the sun's rays,
Infused it into that primordial clay
And kissed it to life with the breath of
a storm?
How many pass by, never knowing that they
Are sheltered beneath your wings of gold,
Kept safe from the clutches of Death so cold.
But thankless, unmoving, and faithful you stay.
O Sentinel, your spirit no human could tame
Without you, our roads would ne'er be the
same.