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)