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)