OSR: Poem of Peasant Grievances

The last post was more of a tabulated beat poem. This one is a little more conventional. It makes for a good litany for any oppressed peasant in any time and in any system. Many apologies to John Cooper Clarke. 

You Can't Spell "Feudal" without "Futile"

Our fucking lord is fucking grand
A fucking twat with fucking land
His fucking son's a fucking arse

His fucking court's a fucking farce

With fucking costs and fucking fees

With fucking lords like fucking these

It's no surprise we're fucking down
Here in fucking Peasant-town

The fucking soil's fucking bad

The fucking priest is fucking sad

The fucking wind and fucking rain

Are fucking up the fucking grain

The fucking wheat is fucking chaff

Don't even try to make me laugh

It fucking hurts to look around

Everywhere in Peasant-town

The fucking cost of fucking war

Is fucking us for fucking more
You're fucking starved and fucking drowned
In feudalistic Peasant-town

The fucking babies fucking cry
The fucking livestock fucking dies
The fucking roads are fucking muck

Our fucking huts are fucking fucked
The fucking view is fucking vile
For mile after fucking mile

But to the land we're fucking bound

Loyal serfs of Peasant-town

Our fucking fields are fucking bogs

Our fucking lord's a fucking hog

With fucking swords and fucking knights

To exercise his fucking rights

Of fucking with our fucking lives

And leering at our fucking wives

And fucking hunting fucking game

I fucking die of fucking shame

To tell my friends I can be found

Here in fucking Peasant-town

The fucking church is fucking lax

They fucking charge a fucking tax

To put you in the fucking ground

Burial in Peasant-town

The fucking wind is fucking cold

The fucking rye has fucking mold

The fucking monks have fucking feasts

The fucking knights are fucking beasts

The fucking plough is fucking bent

The fucking cost of fucking rent

Is never going fucking down

In god-forsaken Peasant-town.