Pay

I can't seem to ask for money, keep it coming when it's here;
I can pour it out like water (very quickly disappears);
Partly it's contempt that rises from some place within my heart
For the people who use money, who without it won't take part.

It's supposed to be a method to facilitate exchange;
Somehow folks have added meaning, now there is a greater range;
I'm encourager and giver, gift suppressed back in the past –
They called commerce ‘filthy lucre’, live on handouts kind and cash.

It's the heart of all my problem in society today:
Cash – the tool of man's permission, feel rejected in this way.
If it's packaged up in paper, called a book, and then set free,
It's regarded as a product, not confused with meeting me.

Guys who come to make quotations, contract out a part of it –
Specialized construction business, multi-trades with perfect fit;
Once it gets to people making, things turn around a twist or two,
For that's partly what our parents do, as free to me and you.

But our families are all messed up – Uncle Joe lives far away;
Sister Betty's in Chicago; mom or dad has gone their way;
Billy boy is drunk or strung out; in the slammer, Bobby Sue;
That leaves Jerry who's retarded – FAS, or something new.

As for Church it has imploded, gone to La-La-land or such;
One can hang there if one wants to, but returns won't help that much:
One part’s so far up in heaven they aren't any earthly good;
One part’s so devoid of morals, live whatever life they would;

One part’s into pow’r and money, one is into little boys;
One abuses people's kindness, viewing them as playful toys.
I don't think I'm that much better, if at all, I have to say,
But I know that stuff already, I seek now a better way.

Where's the model for this money thing, not just in theory's words?
Where's a person with a practice living life which can be heard?
Someone with a clearer vision then the mess inside my head
Who can guide me through this forest ’fore the time when I am dead.

I assume no single person has this matter in control;
That I'll have to gather pieces here and there from those who know;
Wish it wasn't all this trouble, every thing which I pick up,
But I guess that's part of research – it's no fun unless it's tough.

How I learn things best is doing them, observant all the while;
I try out what I've discovered, chuck the worst, that is my style;
But with money it's a system quite complex, with all its parts
Intertwined and co-dependent – chuck it all right from the start?

That would contradict the method I have used up to this time;
I sort things from on the inside hoping to my treasure find.
But there's stories of two searchers – one that stumbled, one that chased,
Both achieved desired treasure, sold their stuff then bought posthaste –

How the heck to do this research is the question I have now;
I don't even know a process that would help me find out how;
I know little ’bout this system or the folks involved in it;
Maybe mess around with money from the place where now I sit.

Lord, what comes to mind this morning as I contemplate this task,
Are the Y-WAM workers starting on the docks, back in the past;
Three full days provisions with them, ‘Get some work and fit right in –
For it's what the local people do when first they each begin’.

I've a task that pays some money I could turn around a bit;
Raise the pay and drop the stipend lest the others take a fit;
Pay the costs and metered mileage; find some other stuff to do;
For it's cash that funds their system, maybe that's what I will do.

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