Wealth is like the gulf stream
down by the bay
where the children go out to play
in hope, they would bask in it someday.

Wealth is like a gulf stream
which trickles down the water,
but the few who control its faucet
take advantage of all its assets.

Wealth is like a gulf stream
that has been poisoned with disease
that people go out to drink
only to be diagnosed with sadness.

Wealth is like a gulf stream
where people go to drown.
When they get caught up in too much fun,
evil begins to flood the lungs.

Wealth is like a gulf stream
that people of thirst dream.
And though, as good as it may seem,
it is not life's only thing.

Indeed you are simply a fool
stuck in time, trying to wrench yourself out as a tool.
If I were only the Fate you believed to tell that life is a book,
not very open to tell you the truth,
I wished I could explain to you the hook.
It's enticing and eye-catching, reeling you in,
but in the end, you're the bait, not the one to win.
So throughout your history, how can you admit
to me, of all infinity,
that you just simply exist?
I guess time will express the answer.
And to that, I say that man will be the forgetful ancestor.

You are my traitor for claiming you exist.
It may not be up to me, but,
Yous should be banished for eternity
for you cannot explain you exist.

I'm sorry for taking your heart,
I'm sorry for taking your soul,
I'm sorry for stealing your whole,
I'm sorry for stealing your part.

I had to do it, I couldn't live!
I had to do it, I would've sinned!
But again, I'm sorry, I apologize,
but again, I pen this and realize...

Forgive me, I stole your hand,
Forgive me, I stole your vows,
Forgive me, I stole your innocence,

But you make me so happy and stand,
but you're my other half,
but we're getting married now,
and I see you start to smile!

He cast out his open net
into the Hell of his greed.
The Devil reigns on to take
the poor souls that are in debt.
People take out their wallets
to ask the demon cashier,
can I pay with my grievance?

Shh! Keep it down! I'm scared they'll hear,
the Yesmen are after me, they might smell your fear.
The whole tribe is on the hunt for my dignity.
All I did was say one thing, and that one thing alone
triggered, like a gun starting off the race, the hoard to come
stampeding towards me.

I'm in the safety of my humble abode.
I'm in my sweet and sound home
with a welcome mat that says, "Hello!"
But I'm terrified that my neighbors are infected
and have turned into the Yesmen.

It's a disease, an infection, and the flu altogether.
All year-round, the people are prone to sickness.
The only way to ward off this evil is through a mind of your own.
But we only have these materials, a match and a torch.
I guess we can't start a fire in our hearts or a flame in our chest,
or a passion or desire or some other pest,
but the Yesmen will smell it all and eat you up like a beast.

No, no, no! They're onto us! They've caught on!
How do I know? Well, they reek of disappointment!
You can tell from miles away that I'm on their radar,
and not very far.

Be careful, I'll sacrifice myself because I don't want to live in this world anymore.
The Yesmen have taken over and I'd have to obey
these savages and barbarians that slay anything in their way.
This only happened because I finally decided to stick up my nose
to say one thing, and that one thing was "No."

Maybe I'm part of a trick,
maybe I'm part of a game,
but what I do know is
that I am a mere piece of paper.

When the children see my face
and then it disappears,
they are in awe, amazed, and absolutely cheer
on the performer who holds me in their hands.
But it is never me they appreciate on the stands.

My life has been cut out for me.
I've been crafted and manufactured
like the rest of them.
Whatever suit I'll wear,
I'll either have a heart or not.

It's an endless cycle that I'm in.
The magician will fold me and tear me apart,
only to come back again as one whole.
But the watchers don't care what I've been through.

It's a hard job, being me.
Only a puppet in mastery.
My controller takes advantage of my beautiful face,
but a piece of paper, that is my only fate.

Quick, grab the poison! It's sure to fill us up.
It's tantalizing, telling us to go grab a cup.
Everyone will say that we've gone insane,
but who's right, me or fate?

The orphans go screaming to find a family.
All you really need are the gas and explosions.
Carry the dead around as if they're a piece of meat
only to cause the readers full of emotions.

Hurry! Someone tell me to stop penning this thing,
I'll be ****** if I say that I am quite tame,
for the truth can only be spit in harshness,
but the bitterness is that this is all in secret.

Decode me with your eyes! I'm sending a message.
Don't you get it? The inside of my inner mind?
It's chaotic, there's fire, everywhere.
All the therapists say is to go drink some water.

STOP! You're telling me what I already know.
It's my end of the line, but I'll bargain a foe.
If you let me do the deed the day I do wish,
then I'll be forever in your humble service.

There! Finally, a deal with the devil!
I can make my way back and refuse the bill.
I have to pay my tax for the agreements.
Do you only accept cash or take souls in grievance?