there is no profit in the human heart
nor in those things that most each of us love
the working machine never gives a fart
dead bodies are piled up on the last cart
we give each tumbril a despairing shove
there is no profit in the human heart
such facts were made clear at the very start
but no new signal came done from above
the working machine never gives a fart
these are the meanings that are set apart
those matters that we knew something of
there is no profit in the human heart
the winner and the loser each are smart
enough to know the total price thereof
the working machine never gives a fart
just so we find the wisdom of the dart
and choose the raven over the pale dove
there is no profit in the human heart
the working machine never gives a fart
Odd ravings, comments, and other wastes of time. Some are in plain prose, yet others are in rhyme.
23 February 2008
profit and loss
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