long time ago

a farthing end of plain white soft-dough bread
enough to stave off hunger and its pain
you eat it swiftly and you eat it plain

there's nothing like the pain that rings your head
you know that change would go against the grain
a farthing end of plain white soft-dough bread

we hear the stories of the walking dead
you point out to us the last purple stain
before the fall of night and the hard rain
a farthing end of plain white soft-dough bread