Money

Well, I work all my life to be rich When I retire Well, my body ache like buggery And, uh How 'bout my mind Money, and fancy clothes Money, and fancy clothes He can make you slave for seven days a week The lust for things he tells you That you need Money, and fancy clothes Money, and fancy clothes And I can feel him all around me Whispering ice to my ear He says, "You need me like a walker" As he zones in on my fears Money, and fancy clothes Money, and fancy clothes Money, and fancy clothes Telling you what to do To get back where to live Where's too cold (Uh, uh, uh, u-uh) (Ow, ow, ow, o-ow) (Oh, oooh) (Ooooh) (Ooooh) (Ooooh)

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