Put away the money, stash away the cash
Try every moment to pile it fast
I wonder at day's end if all it really means
Is how much is in the bank
(while stock markets are tumbling)
I wonder as the starlit days flit by
If the ultimate aim is to stack it high
If golden bars and silverware do fully indicate
My personal net worth and the reason why I’m made
Is what’s within worth more than beans?
Is a poor person’s fate sealed at birth?
What measuring tool is this, that increments each day,
Then at night we columns total up
Our worth is kept in a numeric way
The rest is dross!
Now some might deflect and differ
Saying, “Battle it out is what you do!" and “Life can be a stickler!”
It’s too tricky a point for any economist to ascertain
That self-worth is no variable in a derivative formula contained
Your happiness is separate from whatever the balance shows!