Money Man

Hey there, Money Man.

You there, with the gold-trimmed tie,

Checking your watch.

Pockets deeper than your soul.

Another day, another dollar.

Crunching the numbers,

Stacking the bills,

Watching the stock ticker trot down

The broken street of gold.

They say Heaven’s roads are paved with gold.

Is this Heaven to you, Money Man?

You certainly seem happy here.

But what about that beggar on the corner?

Do you notice him, Money Man?

The tattered guy sitting on Sunday’s issue of Times.

The same Times you were reading just this morning

While sitting in your tower above the sky.

What does it all mean, Money Man?

Don’t you ever long for something more

Than just another dime in the dish?

I know you probably do.

Take a look around you, Money Man.

And maybe you’ll finally understand

That the richest people in the world,

Don’t own a thing at all.