The merry-go-round of money

The things that people do!

It all comes down to money

It sucks but this is true

Everything has a fee

And it’s costs just to be alive

From cradle to grave we consume

And even basic needs have a price

The clothes we wear

The water we drink

The food we eat

The kitchen sink

The travel to work

The roof over our heads

Entertainment and hobbies

Thus we spin in our beds

It’s all a bloody madness

This ebb and flow of cash

It can make or break civilisations

Cause suicides, murder en mass

Wars are fought

And crimes committed

People seduced

Jailed, embittered

Gambling’s rife

If you don’t have enough

Some win, some lose

For this game’s really tough

This rollercoaster ride

The currency of life

Makes you high, makes you low

Makes you have sleepless nights

So unpredictable

You celebrate or seethe

Everything is taxed

Save the air that we breathe

But with all the pollution

Surely it’s only a matter of time

Before they take ownership of that

And sell it back to us ‘cleansed’ of grime!

You have to laugh

You really do

Having to pay to wipe your arse

When you go to the loo?!

Even bog roll ain’t free

As aren’t tampons and the like

And every financial year

Do they the prices hike

The ‘cost of living’

Ever rising with inflation

The powers that be

A veritable conflagulation

“Spend your money!

Sell your incarnation!

Work to earn a crust!”

They preach with exultation

Then when you’re old and grey

And totally clapped out

You finally kick the bucket

And they charge you to be thrown out!

Oh, how my blonde mind boggles

It really doesn’t make sense

The way this silly world quibbles

Over every pound and pence

Eradicate the stuff!

It’s evil, do say I!

Surely we were born to dance

Not to barter, sell and buy!

Everything we need

Was given to us by ‘God’

So how can you put a price on this Earth?

And it’s contents, you silly sod?

Did you create this land?

The animals, plants and trees?

They sun and sky above?

The oceans, lakes and streams?

Of course you didn’t, you prat

But you’ve claimed it for your own

And now you preside over it

From upon your gilded throne

Well a throne is but a perch

And can be fallen off

And one day I hope you’re toppled

If enough of us get cross!