Money

Money


Money,money, and more money,
Will I ever have enough honey?

We are slaves to the monitary unit.
Without it we are not intuit.

No food on the table,
No milk for Mable.

No heat in the furnace or light in the
bulb.
No cash no stash.

One thought of soberity:
Is the pursuit of the greenback an
endless chasm of dreams thrown back?

How many souls get stolen by a system
of capital confusion on the attack?

Up everyday like serfs on the lord's
mannor.

Toiling all day for a pittance in tender
for the sender.

We live and die still stiving to make
enough to render us free from the hungry
beast.

Today, tomorrow, and forever we need cash
to allow the beast to feast.