Where did the money go

Mary, Mary quite contrary
Where did the money go?
My garden bare, but do they care
Whether my garden grows.
Weeds are they
Fruit are we
Let us grow our own money tree
This is the definition of being free
This is the fruit of our labour
This is the fruit that can be our saviour
Get rid of weeds that stifle our garden
For them there should be no pardon
Tyrant, pirates of earthly matter
Our fruit can make your weeds scatter
Banished, vanished, cast out and forgot
Make the weeds start to rot
We are the owners of the lot
Earthly wise it’s time to rise
For the sake of yours and future lives