Don’t do it.
Which button can you press for the ones inside your head?
For the ones you’d like to keep, left crumbling with no support on which to stand.
Take them all, trash and gold. As good as old.
Sort it out when the time comes, when they start to smell like murder and the doctor comes.
You’ll just take all that I have, anyway I try to run.
Greedy little bugger.