monay monay monay monay... Munahhh

Do you think that money

grows on trees?!?!?!?!?!?!

Why yes Dad,

It does.

And the root

of all evil came

from the same place

that damned us all

supposedly

thus man makes

forest his effigy

with fires,

chainsaws,

wood, paper cups,

and chop sticks.

The dead men's faces

That bought my Father's coffin;

The dead men's faces imprinted on the dead trees

All dead

And bought through us.

I suppose they still live on

to haunt every one.

They'll find a way into your pocket

on occasion

Some times you'll find them

lying

on the street.

Lazy rich white bastards.

And That Lincoln,

he always loved to cut a tree down,

moral fiber.

Or so they taught.

He's casual and free, useless in the waiting tray of

Give a Lincoln take a Lincoln.

Money…

I've only one question for you.

How did you trick us

Into believing

you were worth

something.

Money…

You're powerful enough

to enslave a race.

Money…

You turned all the medicines

into a noun that rules us all.

Money…

You're powerful enough

to end civilization.

Money…

You mean nothing to a child,

everything to man.