To live and breathe for decadence, I know someone who will
For more wealth, its evidence, this man would almost kill
A worshiper for dollars, to see and feels its strength
Encrusted with possessions, to win at any length

Sad, a world where money encompasses ones life
Where the pie of pleasure, you can’t cut with a knife
Where day is filled with filthy greed, which harvests not a friend
Where the thought of money does never seem to end

Decadence, corruption, seeds which fill the mind
Joy is not the family, true love they never find
Unless it’s for the dollar, the asset and the bank
Their customers bewildered, the bill but not the thank

Happy in their little worlds, their joy a magazine
The world around could fall apart, their purse strings short and mean
Ears closed to suggestions, their care it measures nil
BBQ’s they never come, the fridge they never fill

Materialistic people, who better do not know
The clock it ticks to seven and off to work they go
Their life almost of torture, to watch the graph advance
To calculate their profit, to rarely take a chance

Lacking skills that make a life fulfilled with love and wife
Lacking skills to take time out and live a little life
People in a frenzy who lack rank of resect
People of a closed in world, which many things neglect

The gene which harbours decadence to some must be a curse
For men like me who love to live, could think of nothing worse.