Billy's gone to meet his ******;
The odds aren't in his favor.
The Omniscient will ask the questions:
Where's the money, Billy.
The pennies from the multitudes
That built your mansions,
Clothed and fed you,
Lavished yours in comfort and light,
While my children around the world
Died from hunger, disease and war.
Open the ledgers, Billy.
This is your final accounting.
The Omniscient already knows where the money goes.
