Shall I ask your purpose, Mr Market,
In freeing the labour and minds of men?
They are still workers, but with a target,
And skills on which their livelihoods depend;
Wants are whispered into your patient ear,
And a price is given to those who speak;
Those that produce are protected from fear,
And those that pay receive what they seek;
Every baron or slave, liked or hated,
Shall strike a deal with you for earthly land;
With roles of value, destiny fated,
For each that give their mind and skillful hand;

So long as hands can build and eyes can see,
You protect all from eternal poverty;