Tuesday, May 5, 2009

Swiney Todd

Cures kepts secret
For profitable treatments
With every new disease 
Opportunities seize
Doublespeak directions
With constant corrections
Ignoring questions
As bad intentions
But what first intent
Was originally meant
Is it even remembered
Or so dismembered
By constant dissections 
And counter-objections
Making mince-meat pies
Covering the lies
In a palatable crust
Serving them with lust
To a hungry public
And if they get sick
They want treatment
Don't ask where the meat went
Or where the profits go
You don't want to know
Because if you do
It's a hair-cut for you
From an ardent barber
Sharpening his razor 
And readying his chair
For out of place hairs
To clean the appearance
With strict adhearance
To keep all things quiet
That would cause a riot
If made known
But time has shown
That well fed
Empty heads
Prefer regular feedings
To knowing what it is they're eating