Thursday, March 31, 2011

WHO THE CAP FITS

We have closed our eyes to the truth and sold our conscience. Now, even fools want to lead. Why not?

Let him wear it
Who the cap shall fit
For none shall dance the tap
That lost a foot to the trap

If our river is full
Shall the lord of the pool
Stand by and watch
While another bears the torch?

Shall we wash with salt
And put soap in malt?
Or shave the beards with shares
As scissors clip the flower’s ears

On the best head let us slap
The ever-contended cap
And let him dance the tune
That bears the dancing rune

Sugar the malt, salten the soup
Jail ye every thought of coup
Let scissors shape our beards
While flowers, with shares are cared.

When the future is carved by the hands of fools, tomorrow is murdered.

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