Line at the door, herded in
like cattle to the slaughter
Bribe the ferryman his obol
For awaiting is the fodder
Torment, silence's metronome
as the feet shuffle in rhythm
Grab a fork and a plate
Fall into place, now harmony's victim
The absence of hope
hangs in the air like a fog
Boundless stacks of plates
Off for more we all slog
He took the last god damn biscuit
I think in my head, now annoyed
I'll have to wait for the next batch
An eternity, to fill this infinite void
For dessert, cookies and cake
Can I dip my soul in the chocolate fountain?
Breathing is labored
The air has thinned, at the peak of this mountain
The adventure is now over, Still
Facing some difficulty recovering morale
I offer sage advice: be wary
For shit will get dark at the Golden Corral
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