How their island became their bier,
Take a seat, lend an ear,
You might shed a tear
At the tale of the St. Matthew deer.
Overshoot, when it came near,
Made their privation severe;
Through conditions austere,
It made disappear
The whole herd of St. Matthew deer.
They never will reappear;
Even if they did persevere,
Some nuclear sear
Plus a Venus-like sphere
Means no more St. Matthew deer.
Doubter, hold back your sneer,
‘Cause we’re right at that same frontier,
And it’s all very clear:
There goes our career,
The way of the St. Matthew deer.
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