The youth,
All that truth,
Used.
All that wisdom,
Bought & Sold.
The youth:
Too drunken to dream.
The youth:
The lawyers stole
Us for pennies.
Oh, don't you know?
A writer's best friend to distress
Is to march single file
Down the halls of law.
Such fickle minds we remain.
The youth:
We march to
A human fodder of war.
No cause for
The youth.
It's easy to make more.
We're easily sold at the door.
Oh, that silly youth.
When will you learn?
The aristocrats
Bought us in the flood.
We can steal our food,
But can we buy our freedom back again?
The youth:
Such odd things,
Fall asleep,
Pretty soon my dear,
A fortune will be found on the street.

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