• Little blossom, bruised and battered,
    Tired Warhorse, old and haggard.
    Ashes, Ashes, we all fall down.
    Behind the mask a hidden frown.

    Set the table, do the dishes,
    All we want is your best wishes.
    Hunger burns as hot as tears,
    Only darkness to soothe your fears.

    Cry out, cry out, my tattered bird.
    Children should be seen and never heard.
    But as the spinning top falls, one last time.
    No one sees the light fade in it's prime.