#BTCRebound Taka soil, soil money

Money soil, soil money,

Life is spinning in Dhaka.

Today’s king, tomorrow’s beggar,

The game of time, nothing remains.

Money falls from the leaves of trees,

Value is empty without hard work.

The smell of wet soil in sweat,

That money brings the bond of happiness.

Greed burns and dreams break,

Money only lures.

The people of soil, meet in the soil,

No one walks leaving money behind.

That’s why I say, understand this,

Money is not happiness, look to the heart.

People will remain, soil will remain,

Money will only turn to dust!