The Joystream

No cup from the master’s table
No drop of wine
To slake the thirst of those
You yourselves say were born divine
How does your bounty taste?
Dining on carrion,
What have we done?
Nothing, nothing, nothing!
Bathe — in the joystream,
Twenty-nine thousand children to tame,
Tomorrow… the whole world!
Try force your right, fill every room
Splash across every surface
Like some obscene money shot
How does your carrion taste?
Are you not filled with pride?
When will we permit this to end?
Never, never, never!
Bathe — in the joystream,
Twenty-nine thousand children to tame,
Tomorrow… the whole world!
How does your bounty taste?
Dining on carrion,
What have we done?
Nothing, nothing, nothing!
Bathe — in the joystream,
Twenty-nine thousand children to tame,
Tomorrow… the whole world!
Bathe — in the joystream,
Twenty-nine thousand children to tame,
Tomorrow… the whole world!