Desperate for lucre
sickening sight
I scorn gold in principle
but can't escape it's bite
the universal solvent
try to claim it's untrue
cold comfort when I want to
shower gems and such on you
I want to take a damn trip
pay someone to do the scut
I want the answer to stop
being but but but
its sick because by so
many standards all around
I am wallowing in riches
opportunity thick on the ground
I've asked to be released of it
perhaps not sincerely
I've asked to be led to
the way of the bird that's early
I've asked for specific figures
or a suitcase full of cash
such a desperate ugly spectacle
buckling at lucre's lash
what
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