The Eternal Hustle
In years past and now, and those to also come
Close by, afar, where’er , all men are one
Thus affined well to all ‘good things’ on earth
And give their lives to hunting down some pence
He is aspired by her, and she is too
But not by him, by riches crude.
What has become of the true and simple
Where has been gone the pauper’s smile in truth
The pyramid – this curse of the human’s race
With all these beasts that run with men displaced
Oh! Mortal men, that strive for ‘god-ness’ here
Sing song for ends for you belong elsewhere
Working he’s found or digging out the clay
Or some job else that truly pays by day
These hoggish beings who never are fulfilled
Would have all things and still be found wanting.
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