I've been thirsting to burst your bubble since
I heard the low-down we may be over-
supplied with a green-backed bird called Money,
that trollop spread-wide by aliases
*A mark, a yen, a buck or a pound
A buck or a pound, a buck or a pound*
To a layman's ears unlearned in the fine-
tuned registers of glib-tongued financiers,
it may ring up as reason to cheer with
no tinkling of trouble, but if Money
*Is all that makes the world go around
that clinking, clanking sound* (they do say)
She sings, clangs a bit hollow when she clings
too heavy in alms of poorly wrung hands,
it's then well-heeled sit'n spins'll turn us about
to the golden-gapped beams of bankers mouths
*For Money makes the world go around
The world go around, the world go around*
And will till johns who hold little put less
stock in the **** pitches of slick-macking
daddy Street with his tricky fat pay backs
for the ounce of love he's flouncing to sell.
May 12, 2010
May 12, 2010 at 11:06 PM UTC
I've been thirsting to burst your bubble since
I heard the low-down we may be over-
supplied with a green-backed bird called Money,
that trollop spread-wide by aliases
*A mark, a yen, a buck or a pound
A buck or a pound, a buck or a pound*
To a layman's ears unlearned in the fine-
tuned registers of glib-tongued financiers,
it may ring up as reason to cheer with
no tinkling of trouble, but if Money
*Is all that makes the world go around
that clinking, clanking sound* (they do say)
She sings, clangs a bit hollow when she clings
too heavy in alms of poorly wrung hands,
it's then well-heeled sit'n spins'll turn us about
to the golden-gapped beams of bankers mouths
*For Money makes the world go around
The world go around, the world go around*
And will till johns who hold little put less
stock in the **** pitches of slick-macking
daddy Street with his tricky fat pay backs
for the ounce of love he's flouncing to sell.
(Lines in italics are lyrics taken from Cabaret's "The Money Song" by Fred Ebb)
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