The Blood Cake

The Blood Cake

The palaces
with the
cakes

Splurgin on
the blood
of the
masses

And the
poor man
on the
field

Tillin his
bone into
the new
tree

You grow
up

Thinkin the
rich have
fun

And the
poor bleed

As you
grey out

You learn
the truth

Both have
fun &
sorrow

The common
man and
the rich

Palace in
the pink
frills

Laugh in
the night

And cry
under the
burden of
day

Complaints from
the country
around

The common
man cryin
for food

In the
day as
his blood
soaks into
his tools

Sleeps under
the stars

In the
splendid night

The rich
and the
poor

All brethen
the same

In this
little
earth of
ours

Where are
you off to,
my dear
friend

The Universe
waits for
your Song

Caution: This might be all theory

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