You are working so hard you put in the time
But you haven't a moment to jot down some rhyme
You pile up the hours and you're building the green
But when can you enjoy it, you know what I mean?
You have a great casa, a mansion, a house
It's clean as a whistle..too clean for a mouse
Yet when can you enjoy it with all that you do
Back out of this hustle and enjoy being you
It's true we must plan for.. the time we're not well
But who said our working should give us such "hell"
We're tired out, exhausted, no energy to breathe
Each day we repeat it.. our spirits all grieve
The ratrace.. the jiggle.. the hunger for more
Leaves all empty when leaving the store
But who is determining what happiness is
Out tvs are telling us: money is.. bliss
What if not having is the secret to fun...
And working was something we did and were done?
If night time would greet us and we could all smile
Share something hilarious and laugh for awhile??
But we have become programmed to run and to run:
Even at night time our work is not done
We can't even focus on those who are around
Because money is calling and soothing is its sound...
Some day we will get it like never before
And find out our happiness doesn't come from a store
That money is needed but not a whole lot
We will finally discover the things we forgot...