November 12, 2015

Lyrics

Money, get away.
You get a good job with more pay and you're okay.
Money, it's a gas.
Grab that cash with both hands and make a stash.
New car, caviar, four star daydream,
Think I'll buy me a football team.

Money.
Well, get back.
I'm all right Jack, keep your hands off of my stack.
Money, it's a hit.
Don't give me that do goody good bullshit.

I'm in the high-fidelity first class travelling set and think I need a Lear jet.

Money, it's a crime.
Share it fairly but don't take a slice of my pie.
Money, so they say.
Is the root of all evil today.
But if you ask for a raise it's no surprise that they're giving none away.
"HuHuh! I was in the right!"
"Yes, absolutely in the right!"
"I certainly was in the right!"
"You was definitely in the right. That geezer was cruising for a bruising!"
"Yeah!"
"Why does anyone do anything?"
"I don't know, I was really drunk at the time!"
"I was just telling him, he couldn't get into number 2. He was asking why he wasn't coming up on freely, after I was yelling and screaming and telling him why he wasn't coming up on freely. It came as a heavy blow, but we sorted the matter out."

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