I will enjoy the finer things they say,
Many do succeed they find their way,
But temporary joy is all they'll see,
God call these Babylon worthily,
To silver, gold and men they like to pray,
Their riches left to kin when passed away,
The poor poor life is just a tragedy,
The least they will have trouble in this life,
They'll live under the stars or in some caves,
persecute them maybe ostracize,
victorious they still have joy in strife,
Oh jewels of God you will be born from graves,
Babylon you'll ne'er feel that real sunrise.
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