Spick-and-span, clean shaven
Living in their own haven
Dressed so proper, looking like a copper
With a determination on their faces
All looking for their station in life
As if they want to rule the nation
Wanting to be better, improve, and be something
Make something of themselves
They wear suits
Shiny shoes, we all look amused
For the businessman, a true individual
With tons of residual
They compete, shuffling their feet
Moving to various beats
With a true desire to really fire
You can't beat the true businessman!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem