Someone gave me a money tree.
I planted it a few blocks away.
Everyday I must tend to my money tree,
hoping it grows big and wide, and makes me rich.
But caring for the money tree is not a simple task.
Sunlight and water do not nourish it.
Only blood, gasoline, sweat, and tears make it grow.
And those things don’t always come cheap.
Plus everyone is trying to steal from my money tree.
It’s small and pathetic right now,
but hey, money is money.
So I had to build fences around it, and keep guard all day.
Now I sit around, surrounded by barbed wire,
with the smell of blood, gasoline, sweat, and tears in the air.
Every once in a while, the greasy old tree coughs up a 20,
and I run to the corner store to buy fresh gas and syringes.