Money, money — don't let it ride upon the heart and mind,
Lest the very meaning of this life becomes a business grind.
Is there not a single place where you meet yourself somewhere?
Let a home remain a home — don't let it turn into a bazaar out there.
Every tongue speaks business talk, everywhere and every hour —
Lest a human being becomes a walking, talking hoarding's power.
On this journey, known or unknown, if a heart gets crushed somewhere,
Don't be the speed that keeps moving and refuses to look back there.
Ask your heart once in a while — what have you lost, what have you earned?
Lest you become the only one responsible for the bridges you have burned.
Yes, gold and silver studded might look very fine, that's true —
But keep this care: let not the fabric of your honor tear right through.
Money, money — don't let it ride upon the heart and mind,
Lest the very meaning of this life becomes a business grind.
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