  A lot of people like Dave Matthews Band. I am one of them. The best way for me to like a song is to recognize some lyric in it. To identify with something the song expresses, to agree with that statement. And that absolutely holds true for "Ants Marching".
For those unfamiliar with DMB, or with the song, there's a line that goes, "...and remembers being small, playing under the table and dreaming". It's a beautiful-sounding statement, the way Dave sings table and dreaming' higher than the rest of the words. It's so prophetic, so simply perfect. When I was a toddler, my mom would videotape me and my brothers all the damn time. In almost every video of us playing together around the house, I crawl around aimlessly in our rec room. There used to be a big, wooden coffee-table-makeshift-endtable in that room. It was pitifully ugly. With a sturdy lipped bottom to hold up its four legs, it was an eyesore I'm glad we no longer own. But as a toddler, I used to crawl on to the bottom and get stuck. And I would just sit there. I wouldn't call out or cry or anything similar that you might predict a toddler to do. On one such tape, I fell asleep under that table. When I got older, my brothers and I became graffiti-obsessed delinquents, marking up walls and furniture and making my mother a sad, sad woman.
Though my brothers were partial to Crayola-ing the fuck out of their bunk beds and bedroom door, I opted for the dining room table. "ahha" was my tag of choice (because I couldn't make the "tails" on the 'n's short enough) After I achieved the desired affect, I would lie on my back under the table and admire my handiwork. Affectionately... Anna 
