Two-Way Street

Every one, it seems, is trying to sell me something stuff I really cannot use, why is it every body thinks I'm available for them to trample and abuse - Junk mail, internet and calls on the phone, whether early, mid or late no one wants to leave me alone - Always they try to get me to buy, buy, buy, anything at all from the earth up to the sky - All a bunch of junk I will never need; I keep telling them: 'No thanks! ' but they pay me no heed - Perhaps if I in turn required something from them? I'll consider your wares, after we've become true friends - So, stop by for a visit, bring me something good to eat, rub my back and wash my feet - Weed the garden mow my yard, wash the windows and wax my car - Do these, and even a little bit more, then maybe, just maybe, I'll open up my door - Come out of my shell, and see what you've got to sell - You see, every one wants, wants, wants so much from working folks like me, and gladly I'll give... right after, from them, I receive - It's a two-way street my friend; you reap what you sow in the end -