Mr rich man.

Mr rich man, why you so mean.

you pull strings, your look it stings, its making people cling.

wheres your morrals? where's your rights?

why do you love those men in tights?

so maybe you don't see the facts, your idea's are really wacked.

you just brush your finger oh so slow, and *WHOOSH* you reach your goal.

so I have to ask, Mr rich man.

you push your luck and I just can't stand.

you get your way because of your recorces and such.

but heck, I don't know you much.

Ok Mr rich, you sun of a DITCH.

you get mad at me so harsh.

so what if you have no morrals, you take all our rights.

so what if you like those men in tights.

your just a rich man, people only like you for your money.

how do you think you got your honey?

maybe I shouldn't be nagging at you, maybe I should.

I mean, you had to of done something to get the roof over your hood.

O.K. so you think your bad ***, but thats ok, at least you don't sell grass.

so I end with this, I hope your shocked.

thanks to you I have no writers block.

R.M.