The corridor is the length of the venal grin

 The corridors of presage
The forks raised at dinner
Faceless eaters
Crime dressed in satin and jewels

The corridors forecast a fate inescapable
Like a song you know the ending to
Table unstable and food falling off it
laughter bellows off  those affable gluttons

Crime wipes his lips with a silk sorviette
The table goes quiet
the light blinks twice
And the room starts to narrow and lengthen
A corridor

The far end is darkness
All we can see is a hay laden floor
All round us bars
A nun to hear our last sins
As a father wouldn't have us

The feast has ended so abrupty my friends
penitence must be driving a faster car
Justice had eye surgery
Our hunger goes unsatisfied
The corridors of our stomach hayladen too

Would you call our lawyer
Is that him at the door
Our greed supported by the law
Make sure he's in court
or waiting for us, in the corridor