Around the table sat the people
Some were eating some were starving
For there was never quite enough
For each to have a share
Every day there was a murder
Or a knifing with someone shouting
"Get your hands off you bastard
That's my food you're eating"
"That does not do mother's salt on some" (?)
Blamed the blackguard (?)
Women didn't even get a ruping (?)
Every day an insane scramble just to get enough
They would rather kill someone than let somebody get too much
There was much din and they argued
About the meaning of these things
Some said the pittance should be shared out equally
But some of them said it proved man was evil
As they tucked into their enormous share
But the wisest of them said
"Till there's enough to go around
The men's scramble will continue
Fight to bring the system down"