Money thinks I’m dead
In the morning, rather
noon I can’t get out of my bed My fridge is empty Money thinks I’m dead
If the sea was whiskey And I was a duck I’d dive to the bottom And never come
up
Ain’t gonna work no more Labour is tiresome shore Best occupation is recreation Life’s mighty hard you know
Over the hill is the poor house Please don’t let
me go A place to sleep, something to eat I don’t ask for more
Ain’t got nobody to love me Nowhere to lay my head My life’s a misery Lord how I wish I was
dead
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