Money sometimes talks
Rather a lot
But in a harsh, unconvincing voice
A growl even
A threatening, screaming howl, even
Because it assumes, in the end
We have to listen, we must comply
Because after all,
We’re the nicest people money can buy?
But we’re not.
So off you trot.
Take your half-baked ideas, your threats your fear-mongering, your sad excuse for power uber alles…your gibberish, your strut.
We’ve had enough.
You’re not tough - you’re weak. Go on try
And wreak your revenge because it’s all you know
You spluttering glob of stodgy, podgy orangey, tacky, battered bitcoiny
Blight on Humanity.