she always worried ’bout money…there was never enough…it flowed like beer from the tap…contained inna glass…swallowed…thirsty for more…more $50’s…$20’s…more $10’s…somethin’ to get her through the night…so she wouldn’t have to worry ’bout money…

and she blamed her old man for their lack of financial success…shamed him in public for bein’ poor…unable to make ends meet…unable to keep up with her demands for money…more money…never-ending money…

he did everything…stocked shelves overnight…worked in factories…collected tin cans…sold all his possessions…for money…which became her money…spent on drinks and good times…he counted loose change…

money became misery…he despised every payday…cashin’ the checks at the currency exchange…they got their pound of flesh too…

then there was nothing…the well ran dry…he’d had enough…no more money…no more good times…no more suffering…locked himself away and never came out…his days of bein’ a plowhorse were over…done with money…

she moved onto the next sucker…and the sucker after that sucker…all for money…it was all ’bout money…