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Money

Money, money, isn’t funny

in a poor man’s world.

When your boric acid and lint, ‘skint’

You’ve not got any to compare to the many

who have a lot, yea the have’s and have nots

 

It’s always been this way they say

So deal with it in any which way, but how

Learn to say “how now brown cow”

Start to posh up, sip from your cup

or glass, don’t slurp, that’s crass

 

Take elocution lessons, no messing

Just go for it, get your foot on the ladder

No room for a weak bladder. that’s sadder

than the level you want to aspire to

 

Do some wheeling and dealing

Strip that old wallpaper off the ceiling

Do up your flat, make out your a fat cat

with loads of dough, sit on the front row

of life, not stood up at the back

 

Pull yourself together

Don’t get a wife, that can only bring strife

Money, money, go somewhere sunny

Get a nice tan, you’re a new man

 

You’re changed, you’re impressing folk

But the truth is, you’re still ‘effing broke!

🌷(3)

◄ Mothers Ruin

Replacement Therapy ►

Comments

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Rick Varden

Sat 7th Sep 2024 20:45

Absolutely Uilleam!

Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh

Sat 7th Sep 2024 12:44

Get a seat in the House of Lords...you can say and do what you like, with no consequences, and get anything you want for your mates.

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