Why does it always seem to be?
The poor are slaves and the rich are free?
Is money the issue in this case?
Is that the reason for this race?

What would happen my friend you see?
If the rich traded places with you and me?
If they lived in our house and we in theirs?
Forty-two rooms and a winding stairs.

We'd drive their cars of the finest choice,
And close our eyes to their weeping voice.
We'd eat the best food that money could buy
And never even stop to hear the hungry cry.

Is that the way that a man should live?
Taking all we can get and never to give?
I think my friend there's a better way,
Called an honest days work for honest pay.

Sharing and caring and loving each other,
Looking out for your neighbor like he is your brother.
Living and loving; money or not,
The measure of wealth is not what you've got.

It has more to do with what you give away,
That will add to your wealth on the judgment day.
So don't look at the rich and their mighty wealth,
Just give a lotta' love and thank God for health.

Then some day soon on the other side,
Where no one is poor and there is no pride.
The one who has made all the silver and gold,
Will then give us the riches that never grow old.

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