Refuse to change
The taste of lunch,
the taste of death,
the taste our bakers
are daily putting on the shelf;
The taste of sugars,
the taste of sweets,
the taste of appeal
will lay one cool, calm, beneath;
The taste of salts
that resides in our face,
Who is at fault
for the foods on our plates?
Who can be accused, who can be blamed,
when our health is yet poor, and we still refuse to change?
the taste of death,
the taste our bakers
are daily putting on the shelf;
The taste of sugars,
the taste of sweets,
the taste of appeal
will lay one cool, calm, beneath;
The taste of salts
that resides in our face,
Who is at fault
for the foods on our plates?
Who can be accused, who can be blamed,
when our health is yet poor, and we still refuse to change?
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