Mr Businessman

Itemise the things you covet as you squander through your life
Bigger cars, bigger houses, term insurance for your wife
Tuesday evenings with your harlot
And on Wednesdays it’s your charlatan analyst
He’s high upon your list.
You’ve got air-conditioned sinuses
And dark, disturbing doubt about religion
And you keep those cards and letters going out
While your secretary’s tempting you
Your morals are exempting you from guilt and shame
Heaven knows you’re not to blame.

You better take care of business, Mr Businessman, what’s your plan?
Get down to business, Mr Businessman, if you can,
Before it’s too late and you throw your life away.

Did you see your children growing up today?
Did you hear the music of their laughter as they set about to play?
Did you catch the fragrance of those roses in your garden?
Did the morning sunlight warm your soul, brighten up your day?
Do you qualify to be alive?
Or is the limit of your sin-sick soul only to survive?
Ay-yeah!

Spending counterfeit incentive,
Wasting precious time and health,
Placing value on the worthless,
Disregarding priceless wealth.
You can wheel and deal the best of them,
Steal it from the rest of them.
You know the score,
Their ethics are a bore.
Eighty-six proof anaesthetic crutches prop you to the top
Where the smiles are all synthetic and the ulcers never stop
When they take that final inventory
Yours’ll be the same sad story everywhere
No one will really care.
No one more lonely than this rich, important man.
Let’s have your autograph,
Endorse your epitaph.

You better take care ….

Ray Stevens