Mysterious is the insatiable nature of human mind The more they have the more they wish to find Keeping millions in banks and thousands abode Stolen wealth stocked somewhere abroad Heartlessly saving employment for the future And leaving the present with nothing to procure The masses left with no option than to weep With their large voices yelling like beep Because they struggle so hard to pick from the soil Watching the ends of the rich reached by their toil Deep down their empty pockets They pull out their little to fill their big pockets When will the rich have it From their mighty oceans poured into the pit? When will it be our turn To erase that which makes our heart burn? When shall we have in our hands That which nature endowed in our hands? When will they frown at greed To have the poor masses freed? When shall the future of tomorrow Have the guts to push away our sorrow? We hope for better days ahead To have our hopes healed as we plead