More in Poetry and other writes of Alcuin of York
Lamentations on a Free Market
Chapter 4 - Selfishness (The chorus is sung to the tune of "My Favorite Things")
Then said the Lord unto me,
"Woe unto the land,
for the most of the host shall be brought low,
and the few who rise shall ignore the rest.
Yea, though gatherers of gold brag their charity,
they battle decrees that would lessen their spoils
to aid the land."
(chorus) Seat belts and safety,
and health care solutions
to stop some pollutions
these are a few of their feared Fabian things
CEO's in their suits and suites -
they toil not, but Oh, how they spin!
Yet they are provided for -
by their friends on compensation committees.
Yea, they preach to the multitudes:
"Blessed are the poor SOBs,
for they work for us;
Blessed are the meek,
for they won't unionize;
Blessed are the multi-taskers,
for they lack time to reflect.
Ye are the salt of the earth,
whom we throw over our shoulders for good luck."
And the Lord spake
"Gather those who are sinless,
who resent not rendering tribute to the land
that maketh their crops flourish.
Go ye forth and a build a paradise
that all may rejoice and prosper throughout the realm."
But the lawgivers' ears were stopped, stuffed
with green wads,
given by those who fear sharing.
Kings heard not the cries of the poor and afflicted.
Yea, golden trumpets drowned out the needs
of the many,
and laws were made to give alms to the rich.
Alcuin of York