Franz Kafka Knew

My song, Franz Kafka Knew, was inspired by two stories by Franz Kafka, Metamorphosis, and The Trial, both of which I refer to in the third verse of my song.
Franz Kafka Knew

Franz Kafka knew,
he knew it was bad.
He could see through,
so clear it seemed mad,
until he grew
too stern to be sad.

They made it grim,
the machine men in charge,
they who had the power
to wield loud and large.
They hit the table with a hammer,
to silence the regular folk
with their petitions and appeals,
to make them fail, quail and stammer.

So he wrote his tales,
one of a man who woke as a spider,
another of a man roughly arrested and put on trial,
never knowing for what crime
or who was the decider.

Franz Kafka knew,
he knew it was bad.
What he thought true
was what made him sad.
He was too sane to say
who he thought was mad.
Franz Kafka knew
but what could he do,
except write his tales,
concoct his own brew?
Franz Kafka knew,
he knew what he knew.
Franz Kafka knew,
he knew what went into the stew.
Franz Kafka knew.