Wealth and riches

https://suno.com/s/84aoUtV50sA0XyvB

Wealth and riches, a treacherous art,
Carry the seed of a ruinous heart.
In the hands of the wicked, the foolish and crude,
They ravage the peace of the multitude.

With a soul that is petty, a covetous mind,
They crave all the treasures the world left behind.
To lounge in their luxury, lonely and vain,
And feed on a feeling of smug disdain.

For the "little gray mice" who just scurry and strive,
Through their gray, grinding days, barely feeling alive,
The weak and unworthy, or so they surmise,
When they look at our lives through their arrogant eyes.

But how could we workers, who lived on our pay,
Have managed to put all those millions away?
We lived by the rules, we were honest and true,
Our long years were righteous, we paid what was due.

We never stole fortunes, built pyramids sly,
We sowed seeds of reason for youth to apply.
So how did it happen, tell us, we pray,
That only rank weeds sprouted and grew from that hay?

The virtues we prized: decency, modesty,
Honor and selflessness, once the world's testimony,
Now seem like old baggage, useless and gray,
If no golden coffers your character pay.

But still, we keep hoping the truths we hold dear,
The cause that we served for, through toil and through tear,
Will regain its power, its worth and its weight,
And the thieves and the villains, the corrupt and the great,
Be swept to oblivion by spring's spate.