MADE OF MONEY - PART TWO

Turns out, when you're made of money,

Life really isn't so grand—

When every single part of you

Is worth a hundred grand.


I bought my son an expensive toy—

It only cost my left ear.

He doesn't even play with it

But now I can hardly hear.


Since I've been made of money,

I'm bald as a loaf of bread—

Each time someone passes by,

They pluck a bill right off my head.


I bought a car with a few of my fingers,

Gave toes to kids who begged.

And this new house where I now live?

It cost an arm and a leg.


Each time I try to help someone

And give them a coin or three,

It feels like I'm missing something inside—

And losing a small part of me.


The thieves are the worst— they're relentless.

They've stolen more parts than I can admit.

A chunk of my leg, a slice of my back—

Gone in a lickety-split!


Now here I am, or what's left,

A pitiful sight to see.

I used to feel like a million bucks.

Now I'm only worth a hundred and three.

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