If Triond wished, if Triond wished

If Triond wished we could all be rich men

If Triond wished, If Triond wished

If Triond wished I could be called ‘loaded Ben’

September evening

I’mma sittin’ at the dining

Hanging up urgent calls

Disregarding playing with balls

Taking dad to hospital

O’ course with an ambulance

The driver overlooks kicking the pedal

Creating a nuisance

Dad blames my failing payments

And Itty-bitty coins

For all that he has to go through

And the pain in his groins

If Triond wished, if Triond wished

There would be no cut guts

Only things it needs to do is

Kick the hoarder’s nuts

To all you Triond-ers out there,

Life is a gigantic cab

Whether you paint it yellow or black

It needs a bit o’ dab

The same thing goes with Triond

Paying us not so good

For all the hard slog we’re going through

Cutting the ‘article wood’

So let’s all get rich

Through our hard work

Writing articles all day

And making friends from all around the world

And requesting Triond: “Please make this my day.”