Your Bank Account or your Wife?

As the capitalists expand, eating up the land,
Destroying the earth, for a chille dog stand.
As you leave your wife, while she sits and cries,
Because you have to be at work just before five.
You would rather leave her crying, face down on the bed.
And go of to work, like not a tear had been shed.
You don't no why she's crying. You just leave her there.
All alone in a suberban home, with all her pain to bare.
As long as you get paid, nothing more will be said.
You will just go buy her, a cheap budget lamp-shade.
They say money talks, and you think your wife will be pleased.
That you left her alone crying, so you could get your fees.
I say all the nice girls, like a man with alot of green,
Because they know they can priovide for them,
And they can fulfill some of their dreams.

This hardly ever happens. Their dreams are torn to shreads.
Who used to be a caring boyfriend, wouldn't notice they where dead.
It's all about the money, never about the time.
All these capitalisits think about is how to earn an extra dime.
Their bank statments more important then a wife of a child.
They want a child when their wife is thirty eight,
When their money has been made, they find that it's too late.
You say ever mind, more time to ourselves.
You don't even notice your wife's eyes start to swell.
Yor only notice her when shes calls you on the house phone,
And when the next day she comes by your home.
With a stack of papers about two inch thick.
She slams them on the table and you sign them quick.
You just gave up all you had, you gave up your life.
Because you choose your bank account over your wife.