martes, 16 de febrero de 2010

Letra Money - Pink Floyd

Money, get away.
Get a good job with good pay and you're ok.
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 firts class traveling set
And i think a 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 it you ask for a raise it's no surprise that they're
Giving none away.

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