🎵🎵🎶🎵🎶🎶🎵🎶🎵🎵🎶🎵🎶🎶🎵 Come gather close and hear me sing Of gilded lords with everything. They count their coins from dusk till dawn, Yet sigh because "there should be more."
They feast on cakes of silver cream, Then tax the crumbs that dare to dream. Their vaults grow fat, their smiles grow wide. Still "just one more!" the chorus cried.
So raise a mug and laugh away: No dragon hoards more gold than they. For crowns of wealth may shine so bright, But greed makes jesters of their might. 🎵🎶🎶🎶🎵🎶🎵🎵🎶🎶🎶🎵🎶🎵🎶🎵
