Lyrics: Money
Album: Pulse
Artist: Pink Floyd
 

Money, get away.
Get a good job with good 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 all right jack keep your hands off of my stack.
Money, it’s a hit.
Don’t give me that do goody good bullshit.
I’m in the high-fidelity first class traveling set
And i think i need a lear jet.

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 raise it’s no surprise that they’re
Giving none away.

"huhuh! i was in the right!"
"yes, absolutely in the right!"
"i certainly was in the right!"
"you was definitely in the right. that geezer was cruising for a
Bruising!"
"yeah!"
"why does anyone do anything?"
"i don’t know, i was really drunk at the time!"
"i was just telling him, he couldn’t get into number 2. he was asking
Why he wasn’t coming up on freely, after i was yelling and
Screaming and telling him why he wasn’t coming up on freely.
It came as a heavy blow, but we sorted the matter out"