Sailing serenely through every depression
The rich are spreading now,
Invading even the remotest of our off-shore islands,
A plague the world can never control.
What shall we do with them, these parasites?
Those who resent the schoolchild’s lunch,
And envy the widow’s mite.
The answer, alas, was given long ago:
The rich will always be with you,
Persistent, like a rotting mold;
For the rich are always hungry,
The rich are always poor,
And the rich are always cold.