A God Called Money

Bow and scrape    
to paper kings  
as I consume all    
of what tomorrow brings    
    
For me you work    
I own the day    
I make the rules    
You have no say    
   
I own your leaders    
for they all know    
like cards they’ll fold  
if I go    
   
your consciousness    
has been penetrated    
through TV screens    
I have infiltrated    
   
Fake news fake news    
the media cries    
but I decide    
truth from lies    
   
Humanity lost    
as was my goal    
profit based morality    
a ghost with no soul    
   
And Justice blind    
she might well be    
dancing on strings    
for all to see    
   
Her scales stacked    
with gold and greed    
while paper has    
no heart to bleed    
   
for it is    
and has always been    
I control    
your hopes and dreams    
   
So bow your head    
Kneel sunny    
I am the God    
that you call Money