The Beautiful Life

Oh the fifteenth century was the beautiful life
so simply survived and free from very much strife,
most foods you could eat without need of a knife
while learning to love an aromatic, sweaty wife.

Just have to enjoy a home you built with a dirt floor
made spilling things from meals something easy to ignore,
which really was a treat when you got the gift of a wild boar
and could drop a few pieces without much of a cleaning chore.

Spending all those wonderful days from June to May
waiting for that tub and nice hot bath to come your way,
pure heaven that the man of the house was first to play,
the others taking their turns so much later in the day.

Now sure did enjoy our ale in those cups made of lead
though in pewter plates it could end up leaving you dead,
should some rotten tomato’s acid decay its gray thread
giving a taste of poison that would leak into our head.

At least we figured out a way to be sure our coffin was true
and we didn’t revive after somebody thought we were through,
using that string on our hand to ring a bell so all then knew
it was time to dig us up since our soul hadn’t thus flew.

Oh can’t talk enough about how this age was so blessed
beside with enough drink you would never got depressed,
plus with all that BO we sure had to say so formally dressed
it helped to forget those stinks that made the nostrils distressed.