Flesh that is Red

Tired of being played
By the man of greed
Who claims his wealth is
An essential need

If I knew sooner
Money was the ruler
I would have played
The game differently

Would've  got mine
Would've been fine
Fogetting about small dollars
And a few little dimes

Rolling
Controlling
Riding the ride of the day
With the beauty I want
Brilliant or savant

Cause money makes sunny
Every playboy bunny
Even for an old man with pipe

But what would that do
Make me a fool too
Chasing luxury
Like a man needing air

Forgetting what I got
Would always be sought
By a man in need of clean water
And a place to lay his child's head

One Day
The judge of the living and the dead
Will remind us of all he said
It is better to give than receive
Words He wrote
On flesh that is red