The Chairman feasts as the death toll rises
He bathes in wheat while the proletariat starve
I see the eyes of a child as he begs for crumbs
His death is but one of millions felt by no one
Blood is on the hands of the collective
Fields of harvest rot, wasted, and forgotten
Keep what you produce and be slaughtered
The death of all you love cannot be avoided
You have been allocated to die for your state
Centrally planned famine feeding only flies
You can almost smell the wheat
See it roll gently across open fields
You can actually taste the grain
But you'll never see this day
Rationalize your rations
Nationalized for your protection
Will you starve waiting to be provided for?
The crows are eating far better than you are
Do you feel proud to be a part of this "Great Leap Forward"?
I hope you know that your chairman is grateful, but he can't remember your name.
