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MONEY

 We spend our whole lives

collecting things that we don’t need

we come into this world

without any air to breath

Screaming bloody murder

As our lungs go into use

The first smile on our lips

Is from the love felt in the room

It costs money to be born

Money when you die

But it’s funny that the money

Don’t bring purpose to your life

Live and breath for love, love, love, love

In a room smelling like flowers

He fades faster every day

Family all around him

Not knowing what to say

But he is ready for what’s next

He ain’t leaving too soon

The last smile on his lips

Is from the love felt in the room

It costs money to be born

Money when you die

But it’s funny that the money

Don’t bring purpose to your life

Live and breath for love, love, love, love

Our obsession with possessions is raising important questions

Like why aren’t we double guessing the link that’s between depression

And trading our self expression to fit with modern perceptions

Of how men should spend the time before their spiritual accession, yo

Money is the means to an end if ain’t a purpose

You could have it all except love and it becomes worthless

Fancy possessions might feel good on the surface

But that emptiness will not be filled with a purchase

You gotta Benz and a yacht and the house on the bay

But nobody to share it at the end of the day

Gotta chest full of jewels and the monogrammed shirts

But nobody crying when they put you in the dirt, yo

Nine rooms and a safe full of cash, fake friends loving you for your stash

But then when the drugs don’t last, holidays spent alone in an over sized castle

In conclusion happiness won’t be bought or sold,

Consumerism, it consumes the soul

It costs money to be born

Money when you die

But it’s funny that the money

Don’t bring purpose to your life

Live and breath for love, love, love, love