| Death By People |
- Destitute Princess
Sits irreverently
On poverty’s throne
With welfare crown
Cocked sideways
Yells "yo" to the jester
Who somersaults in time
To the cries of peasants
Chanting Death to the Royals
Cover them in boils
The princess wonders why me?
As she kicks the beggar
Who blocks her path
To the counting room
Where ministers weep
At their soap opera lives
Then do push-ups in time
To the cries of the peasants
Chanting Death to the Royals
Drown them in oils
The King dons his hood
Of black leather and hate
To play his favorite game
Hacking off heads
Of all who spoke truths
Screaming Only I can lie
He picks up his axe to grind
And hones it till sharp
On the skulls of the priests
To the cries of the peasants
Chanting Death to the Elite
Hack them down to their feet
The Queen in her coach
Travels into the crowd
To do charities work
Passes out free tickets
To the Royal Ballet
Of dancing poor farmers
Tip toeing to lies
Sung by a castrato choir
Under threat of death
They kick in a chorus line
As the peasants cry out
Chanting Death to the Elite
Quarter them in the street
The Prime Minister attired
In finest Chinese silk
Steps out on the balcony
And beckons to the crowd
Saying he and they are one
Issues a call to arms
Then signs the warrant
In finest script flourish
For the arrest of the crown
Saying they’ve forgotten the poor
And must forfeit their lives
As the peasants cry out
Chanting Death to the rich
Lets burn them in a ditch
The King and Queen
And the Princess so sweet
Are brought to the square
And the Prime Minister speaks
Shouting Guilty or nay
How say you they pay
Guilty are they
With their lives they must pay
Then the P.M. waves his hand
With a gesture so grand
They are killed where they stand
And they strike up the band
As the peasants cry out
Tis the end of this hassle
Give the P.M. the castle
But the P.M. is gone
Nowhere can he be found
He has busy work elsewhere
As the new head of state
He’s gone to the counting room
To count his new gold
And sharpen his own axe
