Music blares and and the sausage piles up
There´s cheer in the air
The winter sets in but doesn´t cool the hot capricornian sun
That sausage accumulates as the workers whistle and fill
The countryside looks delicious with that excess fat
Go down to the factory at bell time and have a chat
They are playing mellow beach music as the wrap fills up
The million pigs and chickens were a quick bad dream from your mouth
Yet the mince looks enticing as the roof on your house
Late autumn touches gates in middle class lanes
far from working class hands
there it seems to wane
it´s Wind commands coats and jackets
A Thousand sausages wrapped as snacks
Music blares and the unthinking let the mind travel
from sewage canals to fine dreams of mansions
The autumn wind doesn´t bargain
yet the sun warms it´s insensitive chill
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