Half Full Half Hungry Peasants

Kings always rule princes always marry, jewels of royalty always glow through castle windows feasting and feasting, plotting the next war scheme. the poor smell the duck, the gravy. peasants dream of beheading the commander souls onced plan to unite for a cause larger than themselves, that day is lost now we glorify their stuffing feast the feel of fitting in with them makes you warm inside like a shot of whiskey. you are connected with the fame and fortune; but never invited to a ball tuning into your idols, forgetfull they have no recollection of who you are. time is wasted on a meaningless mirage keeping the peasants happy, with their half eaten chicken breast