The Mammonic Monastery

Money is our crack cocaine,

Our bigger barn and build-a-brain.

Dollars are a flowing stream 

That soothe our days with custard cream.

Banknotes are our currency

Beyond all else we care to see.

Nature's fine and music's great

But peace and rest can watch and wait.

We're into shops we cruise the malls -

Designer brands in retro halls;

And all the while the voice of God

Goes quietly and strangely odd.

We have NHS and pharmacies,

Not M&S but Sainbury's.

We see the poor on Sky news -

Their packaged pleas do pique our views

We want world peace and greener cars,

(but "Angry Me" will never fast).

Every month we give some pence

(we'll claim some back as "expense").

We go to church and sing great songs;

We clap our hands and right our wrongs.

Our tithe protects us from above:

It greases God and grooves His love.

And so we have now all we need;

All we want - but it's not greed.

We feel so empty deep inside;

We're scared that something good has died.

Yet life's too busy to look too long -

It's not right, but is it wrong?