Money and me are passing acquaintances, money is fancy free.
I borrow from a friend to bring music to you.
You and you and you and me too.
Artists only buy from each other an artist said.
Are we all artists before we’re dead?
I wrote a book, I sang a song, how long, oh Lord, how long?
For a joke God made a money tree.
I sit under the apple tree.
My pockets are empty, can’t you see?
16th October, 2017