Mommy and daddy with your hippie clothes in an attic box you went right-wing for us I won't stand up man and say hell no won't tear off my bib this life is too good
Money grows, making marks and rings with tired thirst I'm pinching coins from your purse Money through love man making money through words to butter up my life a vision vision
You took food from wolves and you got dogs yeah I think it's right to rough them up a little bit
Crummy money man let out in Prague God is dead man you hit him on the head with your smug ass smile your heavy fist of shit