Lord put money in by bank
And I shall call and earnestly thank
Ma who pestered Pa to bend
To her whims and bitterly end!
The fight for money in my bank

Ma has told him it is less
What she calls the Daughter’s Cess
For Panties, knickers and monthly ‘Chum’
Things so dear they hardly come!
With the money in my Bank

My account should always overflow
And on my face there be a glow
I can then, dream to start
To fulfill the desires of my heart!
With the money in my bank

My sister’s told them I am down
With a viral that’s profound
I am ill and need to eat
Medicines, Cherries, Grapes and Sweets!
With the money in my Bank

Send me Lord some pleasing news
Of good money I can use
I shall end to feign and faint
Then douse the town in crimson paint!
With the money in my Bank.