>>11464346Surife surfie, til the turfie.
Monk gets beef and gets real girthy.
Surfie surfie, pay your tax.
So Monk can stay inside and 'lax.
Serfie toils in the fields.
Monk is given half his yields.
The plague comes through, his sons all die,
He still goes out to farm the rye.
He works all day and through the night,
but still succumbs to the hated blight.
He lays there dying, pale and scabby,
While monk is safe inside the abbey.
