(原詩)

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, get back
I'm alright, Jack,
Keep your hands off of my stack
Money, it's a hit
Ah, don't give me
That do-goody-good bullshit
I'm in the high-fidelity
First class travelling set
And I think I need a Learjet

(interlude)

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 rise,
It's no surprise
That they're giving none away