Money [New York 7/2] Songtext
von Pink Floyd

Money, get away
You 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

A new car, caviar, four star daydream
Think I′ll buy me a football team

Money, well, 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 travelling set
You know, 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
Away, away
Away, away
Away, away
I was in the right
Yes, absolutely in the righ
I certainly was in the right
You was definitely in the right, that geezer was cruising for a bruising
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 two
He was asking why he wasn't coming up on freely
After I yelling and screaming and telling him why