Money can never bring me happiness
So why do I have to use it?
Fine choice I have, to be a bum almost dead.
Living as an outcast on an island, my street.
Burning the rich, inflaming the poor
Treat the small as I would a whore.
I am a customer and a consumer
A sinner trapped in a saint.
And as far as I know it can’t get better than this.
I have it all and everything I miss.
The sad look on the dog’s face while he is licking himself
While his master rots slowly, decaying in his cage.