Thursday, January 05, 2006


Basking in a sense of camaraderie
Of refinement, of delicacy. We walk
Through meadow after meadow
The long grass yields beneath
Our feet and a solitary cow grazes,
Soon to be the red-brown meat
Who will be the star of our dinner table
And those picturesque peasants captivate

Until revolutionary fervour proliferates
And our tenants become a terrifying tribe
Clasping blood-tipped swords
That can slice the head clean off
The aristocracy with a single blow
Resentment overshadows the land
It flourishes as the fog descends
And we are rendered superfluous.

Dispirited, we are helpless
In the face of this venomous advance?
And every day more bodies
Are dragged out of those great houses
Those bitter peasant boys attack our land
As we flee down endless country lanes
In sapphire, satin ballgawns, torn and worn
Trailing through the mud

Blue blood flows
There is no adoration left for us
They have taken the key
They have scrambled the code
A million times more bold
Than they have ever been before
They snatch back the land
And still we do not understand.


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