The things that matter
Like the fermented batter
Sunny after noon
Makes us lose our reason
Afternoons after afternoons
Killing time becomes difficult
Hunting time is occult
Hundreds are seen toiling in the sun
Inheriting in return small piece of bun
Rich gets all the pomp and gaiety
Offers gifts as the symbol of entreaty
Afternoon exhibits affluence of dreams
In the living room things that matters makes us scream