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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