Peasants

Just a short rhyming poem/ song

Can you smell that?
Smell what?
That in the distance
The smell of Peasant stew?

Yes, it would bubble and boil,
Spew and soil,
Itself 'till it come to the brew,

Yes, peasants know not,
Of the world and its cost,
They'd just sit there and mumble and chat,

Don't care what King says,
Just as long as they're fed,
If they're lucky, they might catch a rat,

Some peasants are fast,
To get off their arse,
And find some sort of job,

A baker perhaps,
Just not catching sprats,
As long as they don't become snobs!