Moo
can't say
He
looks at the brown grass
Growing
idly by on the ground
He
tries to make it green
But
he can't
He
comes from behind
He
isn't a saint
He
isn't bless
Buying
support
He
tries to make it soon
May
June or July
He
will see his downfall
Moo
has to make it quick
Buying
the kilos and monkeys
Gathering
up in his cabinet
So
he can feel confident
But
the 11 pieces of gold
It
hangs too heavy on his head
He
can't think straight
He
has sold his integrity and soul
Moo
has to feed
The
greedy partners in his group
He
has no choice but to make it happen
For
he can't forget the power in his hand
The
back door will fall
No
leader should play out the Old Man
He
will not easily forget his hurt
He
will find his way to make it even
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