Worry About Money
Wearing worry about money like a hair shirt
I lie down in my bed and wrestle with my angel.
My bank-manager could not sanction my continuance for another day
But life itself wakes me each morning, and love
Urges me to give although I have no money
In the bank at this moment, and ought properly
To cease to exist in a world where poverty
Is a shameful and ridiculous offence.
Having no one to advise me, I open the Bible
And shut my eyes and put my finger on a text
And read that the widow with the young son
Must give first to the prophetic genius
From the little there is in the bin of flour and the cruse of oil.
poem by Kathleen Jessie Raine
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Related quotes
Money, Money
My baby gives me the finance blues, tax me to the limit of my revenues.
Here she comes finger-poppin, clickety-click
She says furs or diamonds, you take your pick.
She wants money, what she wants, she wants money, what she wants,
She wants money, what she wants, she wants money, what she wants,
Money money, money money money. money money, money money money.
She say, money, honey, Id rob a bank,
I just load my gun and mosey down to the bank.
Knockin off my neighborhood savings and load,
To keep my sweet chiquita in eau de cologne.
She wants money, what she wants, she wants money, what she wants,
Money money, money money money. money money, money money money.
Mama dont send me down to rob that bank again,
I got a notion that your leadin me to sin.
Wont you relax, wont you lay way back,
Dont you bug your honey bout no cadillac.
Its only bucks, you dont need no jack.
So wont you please relax and lay way back.
My babys lovin gives me such a thrill;
It gives me inspiration makin counterfeit bills.
Now some folks say the best things in life are free,
She wants money, what she wants, she wants money, what she wants,
Money money, money money money. money money, money money money.
Lord made a lady out of adams rib, next thing you know, you got womens lib.
Lovely to look upon, heaven to touch;
Its a real shame that they got to cost so much.
song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A College Going Daughter's Prayer
Lord put money in my 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 sisters' 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
2003
poem by Ravinder Malhotra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It Is Thanks To Money
It is thanks to money that he has a beautiful young wife
And it is thanks to money that he lives the good life
And though he earned his fortune in the honest way
Money speaks every language as some like to say.
It is thanks to money that others him do admire
And of singing his praises some cannot seem to tire
Were he a retired working class fellow few of him would know
You win more admirers as your bank account grow.
In his early seventies his young wife his wife number three
With him she will never know of poverty
A dark haired beauty of twenty five the same age as his oldest grand-son
Money does speak every language when all is said and done.
Together they walk hand in hand down the street
His gray hair dyed dark brown so full of self conceit
He is a self made multi millionaire for to give him his due
But that money speaks every language happens to be true.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Money
Money
Money
Money
Important
Useful
Necessary
Money
Money
Money
Wealthy
Middle
Poverty
Money
Money
Money
Save
Give
Spend
Money
Money
Borrow
Lend
Money
Money
Foe
Friend
Money
Money
Master
Slave
Money
Money
Satisfied
Crave
Money
Money
Laugh
Cry
MoneyMoney
Live
Die
Money
Money
Sick
Well
Money
Money
Heaven
Hell
poem by Howard Simon
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Money
Recorded live at the varsity stadium, toronto, 13 september 1969
-"one...
'money' in 'e'"
One, two, three, four!
The best things in life are free,
But you can keep it to the birds and bees;
I want money,
That's what i want,
That's what i want, yeah,
That's what i want.
Money don't get ev'rything it's true,
What it don't get i can't use;
Now give me money,
That's what i want,
That's what i want, yeah,
That's what i want.
Ow!
Your love give me such a thrill,
But your love don't pay no bills;
Now give me money,
That's what i want,
That's what i want, yeah,
That's what i want.
Hey! now give me money,
Whole lot of money,
Lots of money,
Give me money,
That's what i want, want,
That's what i want.
Well, now give me money,
Whole lot of money,
Yeah, give me money,
Whole lot of money,
That's what i want, yeah,
That's what i want.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Money
Recorded live at the varsity stadium, toronto, 13 september 1969
-"one...
'money' in 'e'"
One, two, three, four!
The best things in life are free,
But you can keep it to the birds and bees;
I want money,
That's what i want,
That's what i want, yeah,
That's what i want.
Money don't get ev'rything it's true,
What it don't get i can't use;
Now give me money,
That's what i want,
That's what i want, yeah,
That's what i want.
Ow!
Your love give me such a thrill,
But your love don't pay no bills;
Now give me money,
That's what i want,
That's what i want, yeah,
That's what i want.
Hey! now give me money,
Whole lot of money,
Lots of money,
Give me money,
That's what i want, want,
That's what i want.
Well, now give me money,
Whole lot of money,
Yeah, give me money,
Whole lot of money,
That's what i want, yeah,
That's what i want.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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0200 Dementia
Now what did I come upstairs for?
Of course I haven’t forgotten your name,
young lady, it’s just that I can’t remember it
Why am I going upstairs?
I only just got up
No dear, you’re wrong,
I always pay on account
Where’s my bed?
Isn’t this upstairs?
Take the paper back
to the newsagent, someone’s
already done the crossword
Of course I’m undressed,
I just came upstairs
Of course you can sign my name dear,
they know me at the post office
Why is it so dark downstairs,
I’ve only just got up
Why should I give you money for the gas,
Young man? I don’t even know you
I’m sure there are more stairs
than there used to be
Stop being so insulting, young man,
it’s only money
No of course I don’t need help with the stairs,
I know my own house
No dear, you sign for it, I’m sure
your boss will understand
Somebody changed the stairs
when I was out, they
aren’t the same
Why are people so rude about
money these days?
Ask my father to speak
to that young man
The stairs are steeper than they were,
somebody’s changed them
Who are you, I didn’t
ask you to come in…
Of course it’s my house,
it’s just that you changed the stairs
Tell the bank manager to
come and see me in the morning.
Why does that man upstairs
move the stairs at night?
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Herbie The Hermit
Herbie the hermit lived alone
because he felt he needed no one.
He lived his life meagrely
and saved his money frugally.
As the money grew in his bank account,
he began to wonder whom was he going to leave his money to.
Each day the question plagued him
and no answer came his way.
Then one day he met someone
who was much poorer than he.
He lived on the streets, as it was the only life he knew.
He would give his money to him.
However, the man did not want his money,
explaining that he had many friends
worth more than his money could buy.
They are there for me
when I’m down and blue,
picking me up again,
which is more than your money can do.
9-12 December 2010
poem by David Harris
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Tina Toledos Street Walkin Blues
Sweet talkin johnny push a john quicker than he spit
Street walkin tin with a crooked crown waitin for it
There she goes
She born in boston but the amtrak took her away
She lives in brooklyn but she works outta queens in the
Black limousines, money in the bank
Black limousines, money in the bank
Send it home
Tina toledo got a kid that lives with her ma
She takes the subway after school, makes up her face, changes clothes
There she goes
She feels the rain coming down on washington square
She gives the cops on the beat a little discount
And then, then, then its
Black limousines, money in the bank
Black limousines, money in the bank
Wend it home
Hard on the knees, money in the bag
Hard on the knees, money in the bag
Send it home for medical school
Rock herself to sleep with the rhythm of the rain
Beating like the be against the window frame
Of her hotel room
Rock herself to sleep with the tunes on the dash
Dont take no credit cards, she takes cash
Says, money, money, money in the bank
Money, money, money in the bank
Money, money, money in the bank
Money, money, money in the bank
It aint no easy life but it pays pretty good,
Keeps her out of the cold
It aint no easy life
But its silver and gold
Silver, silver, silver and gold
Tina toledos street walkin blues
Street walkin, wtreet walkin blues
song performed by by Ryan Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Money
(b. gordy, jr./j. bradford)
The best things in life are free
But you can give them to the birds and bees
I need money
That's what i want
That's what i want, yeah
That's what i want
Your love gives me a thrill
But your love can't pay my bill
I need money
That's what i want
That's what i want, yeah
That's what i want
Money
Lots of money
Whole lot of money
Lots of money
That's what i want, yeah
That's what i want
Money don't get everything it's true
What it don't get, i can't use
I need money
That's what i want
That's what i want, yeah
That's what i want
That's what i want, yeah
That's what i want
Money, money
Is what i want
A whole lot of lean green
That's what i want
Give me money, money
Is what i want
That's what i want, well
Now give me money
Ow, money
Wow, yeah, you need money
Now, give me money
That's what i want, yeah
That's what i want, yeah
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When The Money Runs Out
Writers: leo sayer & ray parker, jr.
When the money runs out
What will we do?
Turn around and start anew
Takes all your lovin babe
To pull me through
Without your love what would I do?
cos Id put you and me babe
Up against the world
There aint nobody else
Like you n me, girl
Who wants the money
And the luxary
When love n happiness
Is all you need?
Cant you see all youre living for
Is dollars and cents
It dont make no sense
And all you think about
In the final end
Is spend, spend, spend
So when the money runs out
Well fly away
Quit the city life n find a hideaway
Live in the country, babe
Off the fat of the land
With nothin to worry bout
No money in the bank
Who needs the money
What does it mean?
Another roll of paper, babe, in a sea of green
To live life for money
You gotta be mad
When I watch you turn it up
You know I feel so sad
So when the money runs out
What will you do?
Turn to me, babe, n Ill pull you through
Well give back the diamonds
n well sell the car
Well live the simple life
And make a brand new start yeah
cos Id put you n me babe
Up against the world
There aint nobody else
Like you n me, girl
Take away the money, babe
Look at what we go
Warm love n happiness
We got the lot
song performed by by Leo Sayer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Bottle Song
The bottle is his only luxury
That he can afford with his own money
He doesn't see anything wrong with it
And others do
Believe it is sad
Because he has a family to support
But insted of doing it he spends all his money on alcohol
He works hard for his money everyday
And not a cent goes to the bank
That is because he feels that the bank will rip him of
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Love the money
Money
Is not money...
It is life....
Money is not
Money
It is happy...
Money is
Not money
It is faith...
Money is not
Money
It is friend...
Money is not
Money
It is life maker...
Money is not
Money...
It is your hard work...
Money is not
Money...
poors god...
money is not
Money
Rich people Cap...
Money is not
Money
World wide all...
Any or many thing money
With money...
So...
Love the money...
Each every day...
Earn too enjoy
with your's life...
witrh good...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Big Money
More info about this song in the song database
My older brother tommy was a lineman rest his soul
His job was hanging hot wires on them high-line power poles
Every morning bright and early hed climb way up in the sky
And I never understood it so one day I asked him why
Chorus:
He said it pays big money and man Im into that
It pays big money if youre willing to take a chance
Let me tell you something sonny, you ought to see my bank account
It pays big money but he sure cant spend it now
Well, my late uncle charlie was this demolition hound
Hed travel across the country blowing buildings to the ground
He carried a case of dynamite seemed everywhere he went
He smoked them big long cigars and hed wink at you and grin
Repeat first chorus
Well now the moral of this story boys, is dont go getting yourself killed
Be kind to your rich relatives they just might put you in their will
Chorus:
That pays big money and were all into that
It pays big money and big moneys where its at
Let me tell you something sonny, you ought to see my bank account
It pays big money and were rolling in it now
Chorus:
It pays big money having foolish kin
It pays big money guess I owe it all to them
Let me show you something sonny, take a look at this bank account
It pays big money; lets all spend some of it now
song performed by by Garth Brooks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Richest Man
If i had a dollar
For every time
You broke my heart,
Messed up my mind
Well i'd be the richest man
I'd be the richest man
...in the world
If bad times paid interest
I'd have you to thank
I'd be driving a new car,
Have money in the bank
I'd be the richest man
I'd be the richest man
...in the world
Baby..money can't buy love
The kind i dream of is so hard to find
For a good womans touch in the morning when i rise
Well baby i'd give up every single dime
Money cant buy love
The kind i dream of is so hard to find
For a good woman's touch in the mrning when i rise
Baby i'd give up every single dime
If teardrops were diamonds from the african mines
If heartaches were silver
My whole life would shine
And i'd be the richest man
I'd be the richest man
...in the world
Baby.
song performed by by Counting Crows
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Your Bank Account
Your bank account might have a million
but your emotional account has not a zillion..
For if you place more value on money
you will not develop how to be funny, or have a honey.
For if that is your identity
you will live a life of poverty—
Poverty in the sense of 'me & me'
which is not so pretty.
Money can't buy you a lot of things,
it might get off the hook in court in the end.
But does it really buy you happiness?
Possibly if you are in the now
sometimes it's better to be a cow.
poem by Christina Sunrise
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Political Greed
The world is changing and so are we
We are reaching the stage of poverty
Times are harder and prices are climbing
But our wallets are really declining.
How do you tell a politician who has
Money in the bank that we’re on the
Road to bankruptcy, when beyond
Their nose they can not see.
How do you get out of the coffin
That they have made, when your
put inside a grave.
How do you open up that coffin door
When fresh air you can’t breathe any more.
When that latch is closed so tight
And you try to open it with all your might.
This my friend is an ugly sight.
People all over the world are asking for change
And the politicians are the ones to blame.
They think of them selves and the almighty dollar
While the public screams and hollers.
Some times I wonder if going back
To the times of bartering
Is the key- to get out of poverty.
I have what you want and you
Have what I need, and no
Middle man in between.
You make clothing and I make shoes
Let’s just exchange and no one will lose.
There has to be an end in sight
We are tired of this constant fight.
We must open up their eyes
For to our needs they are blind.
Let them live in the slums of any
State that they choose, then they
Will see how much they lose.
Give them that challenge and you will see
They can not live in poverty.
Not one of them will reverse that role
Because it’s too hard and much to cold.
(07/09/11)
poem by Louis Rams
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Reconstruction
So, the bank has bust it's boiler! And in six or seven year
It will pay me all my money back -- of course!
But the horse will perish waiting while the grass is germinating,
And I reckon I'll be something like the horse.
There's the ploughing to be finished and the ploughmen want their pay,
And I'd like to wire the fence and sink a tank;
But I own I'm fairly beat how I'm going to make ends meet
With my money in a reconstructed bank.
"It's a safe and sure investment!" But it's one I can't afford,
For I've got to meet my bills and bay the rent,
And the cash I had provided (so these meetings have decided)
Shall be collared by the bank at three per cent.
I can draw out half my money, so they tell me, from the Crown;
But -- it's just enough to drive a fellow daft --
My landlord's quite distressed, by this very bank he's pressed,
And he'll sell me up, to pay his overdraft.
There's my nearest neighbour, Johnson, owed this self-same bank a debt,
Every feather off his poor old back they pluck't,
For they set to work to shove him, and they sold his house above him,
Lord! They never gave him time to reconstruct.
And their profits from the business have been twenty-five per cent,
Which, I reckon, is a pretty tidy whack,
And I think it's only proper, now the thing has come a cropper,
That they ought to pay a little of it back.
I have read about "reserve funds", "banking freeholds", and the like,
Till I thought the bank had thousands of assets,
And it strikes me very funny that they take a fellow's money
When they haven't got enough to pay their debts.
And they say they've lent my money, and they can't get paid it back.
I know their rates per cent were tens and twelves;
And if they've made a blunder after scooping all this plunder,
Why, they ought to fork the money out themselves.
So all you bank shareholders, if you won't pay what you owe,
You will find that on your bank will fall a blight;
And the reason is because it's simply certain that deposits
Will be stopped, the bank will bust, and serve you right!
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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Money Talks
(lead vocal - john miles)
Money dont grow on a money tree
The more you take the less for me
Money dont buy what you really need
It make an iceman cry, a stoneman bleed
But when you get right down to it, no matter who you are
It rules your life like a virgin queen
One day you might get over it, but in the meantime
It rules the world likea green machine
In the bank, in a box, money talks
In the black, on the rocks, money talks, money talks
Money dont lose in the money game
It drags you down like a ball and chain
So money dont come with a guarantee
It make a fool of you, it make a fool of me
But when you get right down to it, no matter what you say
It ties you down but it can set you free
Some day you might get over it, but in the meantime
It burns you up in the first degree
Moscow, bangkok, money talk
Park lane, boardwalk, money talk
But when you get right down to it, no matter what you try
You deal the cards, give the wheel a spin
One day you might get over it but everybody knows
Its heads you lose and its tails they win
Dont have too much to show for it, thats the way it goes
You roll the dice and they cash you in
Pinball, jukebox, money talks
Redskins, white sox, money talks
Billboard, cashbox, money talks
song performed by by Alan Parsons Project
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The More I Worry About Money
THE MORE I WORRY ABOUT MONEY
The more I worry about money
The more I worry about money-
Life has to change
I have to do something to earn some money
I am already too old for most things
I perhaps can be a caregiver again
A minimum salary for too much time lost-
The more I worry about money
The more I know I must do something
What will I do?
I will write a poem about worrying about money
And maybe perhaps after I have delayed it as long as possible
Go again to work long hours for a minimal sum
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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