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.