With our backs bent
Bearing tons of wealth
That will never get within
Our arms' length
We trudge from one day to the next
Living on hope
While hunger makes us mop
And for money-or lack of it?
We bathe with no soap
We give more length to the rope
The day will come, when fire
And brimstones will dash their desires
Of continued plentitude in the face of
Our immeseration's despair
We smile through today's brunt
For we know: OUR DAY SHALL COME!
