B O N    A P P E T I T

We are a nation of artists
Death comes suddenly to all of us

We eat, we leave the table
Grateful for God’s love and bounty
We leave the table, scimitar in hand,
Before we kill intimate friends and foes
We must wash our hands first, this is a must
We must brush our teeth first, this is also a must
To do otherwise would be sacrilege