I bought a loaf of bread,
And cut it into eight,
A slice upon my plate,
And seven still to wait,
I did not hesitate,
To contemplate my fate,
A rich man is my state,
For hunger I did abate,
Once again the Gods have spake,
Have mercy on this wretched rake,
For he is troubled make no mistake,
But mortal time will close the gate,
And absolution is there to take,
For each soul is no mistake,
And time is fleeting,
But never late. – Esinz and Sinz
