If love was a field of green, why shouldn’t we be cows?
Fill up four stomachs with all that abundance,
why couldn’t we thrive on that redundance,
get fat off the wealth that nature allows?
And if love was a waiting trap, why shouldn’t we walk in?
Recite the tale to our sons and daughters,
then come with heads held high to the slaughter,
why should we lament what our end has been?