Finance finance finance
called you thrice not that you're sweet
my mind a pain, me life now weak
more enough you've enslaved and prisoned I
always a toil and sweat for you.
finance finance finance
feared you like a hearse, you win for sure
but this grudge for peasants I wonder
those in big drives, make dollars when days' in.
simply; favor the favored and intimidate the intimidated.
finance finance finance
they a strive and achieve in much pains
to more heights but you a fail them
but those who have, champaine a gurgle in the guts
I a peasant, I'll one day be minister for finance.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem