Money

Money

In days of old before we were born
A turnip could be swapped for corn
A shirt mended for a loaf of bread
Then some bright spark got up and said
"Hey everybody! Look what I've got!
I've invented these vouchers!
They're worth quite a lot!
Give me your goods and I'll give some to you
And you can spend them
Any way you want to!"

The people, for the most part, thought this a good plan
And sold all their goods to this man
In the hope of making life easy this way
And ending the natural struggle of survival day by day

Some, who were wise, knew this was not good
But they shortly died, as everyone should
Gold became worth more than shelter or food
Some had a lot, others had none
The many struggled while a few had fun
A hippie was born 2,000 years before his time
Said money was a bad idea and was killed for his crime

At other times the few went to war
Didn't matter what they were fighting for
As long as they won and managed to claim
Land and riches to add to their name

And the few took the many to fight for these things
Because the many had allowed themselves to be convinced
That they too had been bought and belonged to the few
So they worked hard and fought and died for them too
And, I'm sorry to say, most still do

While the few sit in offices
In government departments
All over the world putting the many
In compartments
Trying to keep order by subtraction, adding up
Decimal Tables
Filling heads with all sorts of fables
About cars, chocolate, pretty peachy tones
Mod-cons, crap to fill unhappy souls

In government offices accountants add up
Divide
Multiply
Take Away
Subtract
Take Away
From the many
So they can match up
The columns in their books
To justify the acts
Of governments
Who haven't got a clue

Because some of the many have been telling the few
"Look at the world! We can't rely on you!
We don't need your rules and unjust laws.
We're sick of being governed by media whores."

Some of the many have no choice but enslavement to the few
They found they were bound
Before they even knew
They work all day for meagre pay
To help their loved ones in some way

They pay for homes they call their own
For which they took out a life-size loan
Knowing that if they can't pay
Their mortgage, higher purchase, debts or income tax
They could lose all they worked for at the drop of a fax

The banks and the businesses have to balance the books
They believe they must do this to prove their not crooks
So they chop down trees and put people on the street
Because they think to survive they must make ends meet

But money has got out of hand
It doesn't work for us
We work for it and it
Keeps us chained to a life of shit

Money has got out of hand
What there is belongs to the few
So must we let them tell us what to do?

Money has got out of hand
Divorced from humanity
Divorced from the land
An everlasting con
Passed down from times bygone
Destroying people and the planet we dwell on
As if the few had put some accursed spell on
Me and You.

Don't be tempted by the few.

Juno