We don't realize we have have fallen
And raised the demon of War
Through worshipping the money God
Our own souls have become poor
And in each untidy corner, forgotten
And left sore
A little bit of darkness grows
And creeps under the door
Ill-gotten gains and more
Ill-gotten gains
What blood money
Can put our dignity to shame
For out the other side of happenstance
The colours soon will drain
Showering on the heads of ambition
Ill-gotten gains.
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