THE CRY OF THE GREAT ODE (character monologue)

Aye, my humble peasant!
I, am the great ode.
If you ask m'name of any folk
It is the name that shall be told!

"I, he, him, who? That man!"

You, the poor little peasant
The humbled fool
Love me and I shall
Liberate your toes from their lint
I will drown your poverened lives
In jewels and gold spices!
Rich foods, red wines
Gloriously aged senses of fortune and
Abundance and healthy wealthy wealth
(and cheeeeeeeese! )

Come all my poverened people
Picking pickles for a poor price
Working wearily with wong hours
Pickles sweet, pickles sour
Your lives my sacrifice!