I choose to be poor!

Silver was for spoon

Bed made of gold

I had everything you would wish for

More than a king could hold

Ferrari was my mower 

Bentley to take me school

Yet I chose for my ten toes

Though you would call me a fool!!!

Dollars no longer tore my shirt

Nor did cheques burden me
Street vendors dazzled me more than malls

And I fell out of love with the Lee

It liberated my soul, I guess

For I loved the frost, wind and scorching sun

Ways of poor lured me out

And made me take this wilder run

I now, Dear Dad, would live this life

You can keep the green stack for our own

'Coz this is how I want to look at the sky

Exploring more than you have ever shown

For this makes me what I want to be

A fisherman rejoicing in his fiery shore

I dot to swim till I get to sea

though born rich, I thus choose to be poor

I want to find my own little stream

Through which I shall boat to the shore

I want to turn the page and earn every dime

I was born rich but I now choose to be poor