Under the haze – a city of corporate ladders
As tall as their sky scrapers high.
Money flows through the hands –
Under the haze – a city of corporate ladders
As tall as their sky scrapers high.
Money flows through the hands –
From the poor to the rich,
From the buyer to the seller,
From one need to fulfill another.
As the subway snakes people from station to dock;
And again, money flows through the hands –
From the financial district to the fashion place,
From the showroom floor to the dance stage,
From the suppliers to generate the demand.
Under it all – a city of atoms uncountable
Come together as matter poured from strange molds,
And through it all money flows –
From those in want to those who want more,
From the decimal point to the dollar sign,
“Hey, Buddy, could you spare a dime?”
