Give Me Wine Or Money

In open fields where flails are swung

And songs are posed between them

A wreath abides and summer flowers

With cakes all strung together

Four sticks for legs, two for horns

The last sheaf waits for reaping

Children run and neighbors turn

All is safely gathered

The threshers will tear out the best

And heads and hearts are broken

One last stroke to kill the goat

Blackened faces bleating

Give us wine or money

Lead us round the houses

Wrapped in fur and feathers

Stuffed with straw and leaves

The plant that feeds the animal

The endless circulations

The children have been told to kill

And taught to pray for plenty

And on the earth where blood is spilt

The few must feed the many

Give us wine or money...

And that's all that's ever seen

It goes on forever

One last bond left between

The lost and disconnected

Give us wine or money...