What must be done
To escape this one
And only force that keeps me strung to Wisconsin?
I wish it’d never been born
Although I’d sworn
That one day I’d have it all for myself.
Its green hue—I must be clear, though,
It’s been replaced by ones and zeroes—
Keeps my mouth moist with greedy salivation.
The world would stop winding if it weren’t for money.
Though the payment has been that the world became ugly.