Bills, bills just keep pouring in,
And I don't know where to begin.
I check my account, do I have enough?
Being responsible can be so rough.
I have to ensure they all get paid,
But there goes all the money I made.
I may need to cut back on this or that,
I guess my wallet will never be fat.
I thought I've paid them all before,
But here comes the mailman with some more.
When I'm all done, I think it's so funny,
There's too much month at the end of the money.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem