The song of a rich fool.

By Caleb Bresh.

Play the drums and roll the cymbal,
Hit the gong and let the sound of the gangan fill the air,
Strike the chord and roll the sax,
Hit the bass quitar and strike the omele,
Let it fill the atmosphere with a thunderous and sonorous sound,
Let it invite the beast of the field and the drenched market women,

Bring in our rich guests and famous folks,
Bring them in and set the table,
Let the spoons find their way to the plates,
And the wine to the wine cups,
Let the singer mount the stage, let the dancers dance to its sonorous tune,
Let their be a shout of joy, let the wave sweep the corridor,
Let our neighbours next door peep through the keyhole,
And let the children of the street bang our door,
Let the scent of our dishes kill the rich and let it bury the poor,
Let us dine and wine with people of our calibre,
Let us dance and sing like there is no tomorrow,
Let us celebrate and jubilate until July is late,
Let us eat and drink, and then drink and eat,
For tomorrow, we die.