Black is your coffee
Toasted and buttered your bread
Half past seven,
A quick peck on the cheek
off you go to the bank
one solid day you spend at the bank
a loyal servant of the bank of commerce
Your lover number one,
the bank..always the bank...

you'd be at the bank till all workers gone home
you'd be at your desk checking the accounts
making it balance , counting the profits
recovering the loss...
If there is an award for the banker of the year
The outstanding achievement
and the bla... bla... bla...
The winner is you, without a doubt...

While you're making your accounts pretty
Perfecting your financial reports
The dinner is getting too cold
The kids are growing up so fast  
Your cat is getting too old
Your wife is sulking too long
Your house is getting too far
Your family is slowly vanishing...
not physically of course...
the souls of love and life
is  disappearing little by little...

Dear banker,
If you happen to listen to this
banker's wife blues...today
Hope you'd throw the balance sheets in the basket
and sit with your wife and kids
in a garden,
drinking a cup of English tea  
Eating some home made biscuits...
How much bonus is more worthwhile
than watching your kids growing up
before your eyes...
kissing your wife good night
tasting the love doses...
Tell me, after listening to all these?
Will you still worry about your imbalance bank accounts?