The simple joys of life are nicer
A rose, a rain or a river
They're natural thus beautiful
Uncorrupted, pristine, eternal
They're the life and so pure
To any mental ailing perfect cure.
The cashew nut, the cigar, the car
In the hands of a dictator they affiliate more.
Artificiality and sophistry
In revival of fortunes they cause only melancholy
At last beyond the influence
They 're confined, socio phobic, so artificial
All true pleasures, delight, happiness of life forever denied.