Only when the last Green is seen And the last Plea is screamed That we shall return Our deeds for burn Knowing you and me Will never be free For the money we make Can not be ate And the feeling of regret Makes the sun never set Or a sea In which the end was never able to be reached For we people can easily be a fraud But we shall never be applaud Of our selfish dish Of remorse And of course, I seem to be the frauds main source