[00:17.52]crumbs from the table have fallen so few
[00:20.73]so not to catch an eye
[00:24.00]reckless and thinkless and felled to the knees
[00:27.29]to gather before before the broom
[00:30.35]what is left amongst the spire
[00:36.60]that is as tall as the lowest cloud you could reckon the height of
[00:43.29]hanging on a branch here every time (though never fell so far)
[00:48.78]from which we lift these blistered hands only to curse
[01:05.13]the families get nothing but porridge of maize
[01:08.78]and shacks at the end of farms
[01:11.93]cash crops commissioned to pay of the debt
[01:14.95]and poisoned on the job
[01:17.93]driving the mules to death in the wheat
[01:24.22]then leaving us follow with leather to eat
[01:30.65]buried their sabers in the field and sharpen bayonets