At least unsolicited in your eyes.
The torture resting within one's own body,
Is betrayed by that body's lies.
If I took you to the places I wanted,
And showered you with the riches I lack.
Oh, how money would buy happiness.
I would never look back.
And sadness would never visit me again,
Without being quickly drowned.
And if that means that I am drunk all the time,
So what, to no employer shall I be bound.
And it's alright,
The line between a bum and respectable sort,
Is only the money in one's bank account.
Life never let's the ball leave the rich one's court.
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